


No Time Like Forever

by Tuzilla



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Time Travel, neville longbottom - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 05:58:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 26,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13428279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tuzilla/pseuds/Tuzilla
Summary: This story is based in the early days of The Chamber of Secrets. It is primarily about Neville and the situation he finds himself trapped in. Poor guy never seems to catch a break, at least until after he blows up the bridge and kills Nagini. But that is way in the future from this story, or is it the past? Hmmmm.I hope you will comment on this work. Thanks.





	1. He Should Have Known Better

“Longbottom’s been neglecting his earmuffs,” remarked Professor Sprout as Neville collapsed on the greenhouse floor.  
“No, ma’am, he’s just fainted,” replied Seamus, looking down at him.  
“Yes, well, just leave him there,” was all she said before leading the class through an exercise in repotting mandrakes.  
There had been a loud shriek as Professor Sprout yanked a young mandrake up out of its pot. That horrible sound was the last thing Neville remembered before starting to come to on the wooden floor.  
“Where am I?” he thought. Then as he started to rise up he remembered he was in Greenhouse 3 for Herbology class. But where was everyone else? What time was it? The greenhouse was silent, the adolescent mandrakes now happily repotted. His class had apparently abandoned him.  
He continued to rise up, but the sleeve of his robe snagged on a loose board. The end of it lifted away from the floor as he tried to free himself. Reaching down to unhook himself, he pulled on the loose piece of flooring. There were a couple of clicks and a clunk to the side of him as his sleeve came free. A hidden door in the side of the greenhouse slid open. The board, as it turned out, was actually a lever.  
Neville cautiously crept over and peaked into the opening behind the door. It was pitch black inside. The smell coming up out it was like it had not been opened recently, if not in centuries. There was mustiness to the air that was less than inviting.  
“What is this opening?” he thought as he pulled out his wand, curiosity getting the best of his normally cautious side. “I need to cast a little light in there. Who knows what is inside?”  
“Lumos,” said Neville, light pouring out of his wand and illuminating the area behind the door. For such a shy guy, he had an impressive wand. It was made of cherry with a unicorn hair core, thirteen inches. The wand had belonged to his father before he was tortured into insanity by Bellatrix LeStrange and other Death Eaters. Now he carried it with the kind of pride that should be expected of a son with a family heirloom that once belonged to his father. That pride, of course, was also a melancholy pride, as well.  
The passage, about two and a half feet by two and a half feet, seemed to stay the constant for a few feet, then it gave the impression it opened up, maybe into a room. The light seemed to be ricocheting around and returning shadow of things, maybe chairs or tables. It was hard to tell.  
Many of his classmates would already be inside, investigating, but Neville was a bit more reserved and less adventurous. He needed a bit of time to build up the courage to inch inside, but the lure of the unknown passage was working on him. He was finding it harder and harder to contemplate stepping away from it, perhaps telling Professor Sprout what he had found.  
He stayed there, peering into the opening for some time, trying to build up the courage to crawl in. Part of him hoped he would be interrupted by returning students, or Professor Sprout coming to attend to her plants between classes. That would give him an excuse to not go in. But such was not the case.  
Neville could not resist any longer. With a deep breath, like he was going under water, he moved forward, entering head first until his knees felt the dividing line between the greenhouse floor and the inside of the passage. He hesitated, but told himself he was going to do it. With another breath of the now musty air, he crawled all of the way inside.  
“This is crazy,” he thought over and over, but he pressed forward for several yards until he reached the end of the small passage and was poised to enter the larger unknown.  
“C’mon, Neville,” he thought with forced determination. “We can do this. Just do it.”  
He held his wand out as far as he could, trying to get any kind of a look, and kind of a hint as to what may lay in front of him. The walls of the section of the small tunnel of a passage were black, but the new area he was about to enter looked to be more of a dark tan, or light brown. That determination would depend on how you, the casual reader, look at things.  
Having braved entering the space, a major accomplishment for Neville, he pushed himself forward several more yards until he was on the edge of where he could get his first glimpse of what was in front of him.  
It was quiet, so very quiet in here, just yards from where he had left the safety of the greenhouse to enter this new place. It was like he had crawl out of the world into a new, silent dimension.  
He could hear his heart and other organs working, running his body in a machine-like fashion. He had never actually heard noises, such of these, in the past. He had never even considered that his organs made noises. He had always blindly assumed they just quietly did their work without comment.  
His blood, filling some of the sonic void, sounded like a swollen river rushing past him. The outward pressure from the lack of external stimuli on his eardrums made him uncomfortable, almost nauseated.  
With another small step forward on his knees, his head poked into a fairly large room of about twenty by twenty-five feet with an approximately ten foot ceiling. The air was much fresher in it.  
In the center was a solitary wooden desk accompanied by a plain, wooden chair with a fancily embroidered cushion. He could see the top of a quill and other items, not revealed enough to identify on the table. In the furthest corner, he saw a large, bronze globe. A very strange looking clock hung over it. Shelves of books were over the clock.  
Not sensing any immediate danger, Neville inched into the room until he was able to stand upright. Once erect he could see several items on the table. There was an ornate ostrich plume quill resting in a standard brass stand, a crystal ink pot, writing paper, an open book resembling a ledger, a kerosene-style lamp, a china tea cup and saucer decorated with red roses flanked by a matching sugar bowl with tongs, full of cubes, and a matching creamer, There was also an empty, plain white plate with a butter knife and jelly bowl. A silver candy bowl with a cover sat in the far right corner.  
As he approached the desk, the lamp came to life, illuminating the room with a yellowish light from its flame. “Nox,” he said, turning off the light from his wand.  
The cup filled itself with a brown liquid smelling like Earl Grey tea. A hot biscuit appeared on the plate. A bright, yellow substance which looked like lemon curd filled the bowl.  
Curious,” he thought, “but whoever normally uses this desk is clever. It would be nice to have snacks and food waiting for me in my room like this.”  
His curiosity was now peaked. He started to look around the room. The plain, brownish walls were anything but what they had first appeared. The two sidewalls and the one behind him were covered ceiling to floor with rows of drawers, like a card catalog section in a library. “Very curious room,” he thought.  
Meanwhile, the class returned from their outdoors activities to the greenhouse. Professor Sprout wanted to evaluate how their mandrakes were adapting to their new pots, and to dress up soil with a sprinkle of fertilizer from Hagrid’s collection of magical critters and creatures.  
“Finnigan. Where’s Longbottom?” Professor Sprout asked Seamus. “Is he still lying about over there?  
“No, ma’am. He’s gone. Maybe he thought class was over and went back to the castle for lunch. “  
“Oh, very well,” she said with an exasperated exhale. “Never mind then. Just go ahead and finish up with your mandrake. When you see him, tell him he still needs to come down here and finish up this project if he wants a passing grade on it.”  
“Yes, ma’am,” replied Seamus.  
“That’s not like Neville to just take off,” said Hermione to Susan Bones. “He loves Herbology. I hope he is all right.”  
“Yes,” agreed Susan. “That is peculiar.”  
Draco turned snickering to Crabbe and Goyle, calling Neville a stupid oaf.  
Unknown to Neville, the entrance door had closed itself behind him. The board that acted as a lever had lain back down, its secret invisible to all who might look at it. Unless he could find a lever on his side of the doorway he was stuck there until he could find his way out the other end.  
Class ended, and the students all headed up to the castle for lunch. They still had two more classes in the afternoon, so it was essential that they fuel up their systems. Neville was nowhere to be found during the entire lunch period.  
“This is very curious,” Hermione told Ron and Harry. “Neville never misses a meal.”  
“That is true,” agreed Harry, looking at her, then Ron. “He is almost as bottomless as you when it comes to eating, Ron.”  
Ron frowned, grabbing a chicken drumstick, but he knew it was true, so he reframed from saying anything.


	2. Can’t Go Forward, Can’t Go Back

Neville examined the items on the table. The tea smelled good, and he was starting to feel a bit peckish, not getting the noontime fill of lunch like the others were enjoying. He was tempted to grab the biscuit, slather it with the curd, but was still wondering whether or not someone was going to come in any time now and wonder where it had gone missing.  
“I suppose I could see what is in the bowl,” he thought, looking at the silver bowl on near the corner of the table, wondering what was under the top. “I don’t suppose anyone would miss a bit of candy, if that is what is inside of it.”   
He lifted the top and found the bowl full of sherbet candies in the cherry, lemon, lime and orange flavors. He took one of each and replaced the lid.  
He tried to further distract himself from food as he enjoyed the candies by looking at the ledger-like book. It had a long column of entries. The top was marked August 24, but did not have a year tagged onto it. Neville thought that was curious at first, but it could be an annual book not needing a year notation.  
The entries were:  
Herculaneum 79  
Newark 1932  
Rome 455  
Rome 410  
Mainz 1345  
Paris 1801  
Neville thought they were curious entries, but did not see anything within them he recognized. He carefully flipped the pages to a different, random page. “March 15,” he mused, looking at the entries.  
Rome -44  
Melbourne 1877  
Lu -501  
That was it.   
Neville flipped past several other pages, looking at the entries. He finally returned it to its original page, August 24th. His attention then returned to the biscuit, which was looking more and more enticing.   
Finally, he could no longer resist. He picked up half of it and smeared it with some of the curd, which was, indeed, lemon of particularly fine quality. Within a moment, the other half was also gone, minus a small bit that had fallen to the floor. As he picked up the tea, dropping a pair of lumps of sugar into it, he was now fully committed to nibbling that which was there for the taking. Sipping the tea, which had cooled to a perfect temperature for drinking, a small mouse scurried out of a hitherto unseen crack in the corner of the room and darted across the room.   
He could hear the toenails of the mouse clicking across the floor in the silence. It picked up the fallen crumble, crunching away as it ate with great enthusiasm. Looking around for more and seeing none, it scampered, clickity-click, back to the safety of its hole in the wall.  
The snack had refreshed him. He felt great, perhaps better than one might expect from the mere consumption of a few candies, a curd-covered biscuit and a spot of tea. It was time to look around further at the room. “I wonder what all of these drawers in the walls are about? This is a very unusual place,” he thought.   
The first thing he inspected was the globe. It was quite heavy to his hand as he spun it, and very well-made. As to the detail, it was very accurate. Nothing else stood out about it.  
The clock, on the other hand, was very strange. For starters, it did not have any hands. The numbers on the face seemed random, with 42 in the normal 12:00 position, followed by 1, a backward 2, 3 in Roman numerals, 5, 5, 5, Q, 8, ?, 100. Just above the center point, where a name of the maker might appear, was a narrow, horizontal slot with a slip of paper stuck in it.  
He took a chance and lightly pulled on the slip of paper. It came out without any difficulty. On it was written Paris 1801,   
The clock suddenly started to make whirling noises. The characters on the face began spinning and rotating. He quickly replaced the paper in the slot. The clock immediately stopped making noise and all characters returned to their former positions.   
Neville’s heart had started pounding, and sweat was evident on his forehead and palms. “Wow!” he thought. “What was that all about? Weird.”  
Neville backed away from the clock. He wanted nothing more to do with it. He had no idea what might happen if he did not replace that paper, but he was not sure he wanted to find out. Maybe he should have listened to his fears and not came inside the tunnel to start with. It seemed more and more like he might have made a bad choice.   
Above the clock were the rows of books. They resembled the open ledger on the table. The higher up he looked, the older they appeared. The ones on the top row appeared absolutely ancient.  
The drawers on the wall still were untouched. Should he dare to open one? What evil could lurk inside them? A little peek might be okay, he thought, walking to the wall just to the right of the clock.  
The drawers were all about one foot square. On the side walls, there were 20 rows of drawers reaching six drawers high. On the back wall, there were 21 rows or six.  
All of the drawers had little labels. It appeared to be chronological, with each drawer label for a particular day of the year. The random section he was looking at included days in July. When he saw his birthday, July 30th, he decided that was the drawer he would slide open.  
He lightly touched the knob on the drawer, thinking and rethinking his decision, finally grasping it between his thumb and forefinger. With a gentle pull, he slowly began to open the drawer. It opened quite easily, like it had been opened countless times, its running edges smoothed from centuries of use.  
As he stepped back, the drawer kept coming out. He had expected it might going a foot or so into the wall. By the time he finally had it all of the way open, it reached halfway across the room.  
The inside of the drawer contained countless files. He reached in and randomly pulled one out, being careful to mark his spot, so he could return it to the exact same place. The tab on the file said, Montevideo – 1930. “I wonder what that means,” thought Neville.   
He opened the folder and found a page detailing a trip to Montevideo in Uruguay for the first FIFA World Cup Championship Game. The page read as follows:  
Montevideo, Uruguay – July 30, 1930 M.T.  
First FIFA World Cup Championship Game  
Uruguay versus Argentina  
The championship game took place in the Estadio Centenario in front of around 93,000 spectators, mostly muggles from Uruguay. The stadium was filled before noon with raucus fans, even though the game was not slated to start until 2:00pm. Considering it is now winter in Uruguay, the weather has proven quite pleasant for play. There can be no complaints about it.  
Everyone was dressed in colorful clothes indicating their favorite side. Vendor were sell snacks and wares of countless varieties. A sampling of the food found it quite tasty.   
Muggles seem to have equal passion for this game to the Magic World’s passion for quidditch. I prefer their game of rugby to this or their game of cricket. It is still a historical moment and needs a recording made.  
More muggles would have attended, but Argentina could not muster enough ferry boats to transfer angry fans across the Rio de la Plata from Buenos Aires. Many used alternative craft, but either arrived quite late after the kickoff, or never at all. This created a lot of upset on the Argentinian side.  
A fight over which team would provide the game ball threatened to delay the game. FIFA stepped in and said Argentina would provide the ball for the first half. Uruguay would provide the second half ball. Muggles can be so childish at times. Imagine us arguing over who provides the quaffle for the Quidditch World Championship Game. The Ministry has done that for hundreds of years.   
The game kicked off on time. Pablo Dorado scored the first goal in World Cup history, giving Uruguay an early lead of 1- nil. Carlos Peucelle tied the match at 1 all just before the 8 minute mark. Guillermo Stábile made it 2-1 Argentina at the half.  
Pedro Cea scored the equalizer for Uruguay early into the second half. Santo Iriarte gave Uruguay a 3-2 lead about 10 minutes later. Hector Castro made it 4-2 Uruguay just before the final whistle, which stood as the final score.   
Uruguay’s goal differential over the 4 game match was +12. An amazing total by any measure.  
Recorded by Zaman Bahar  
“Fascinating,” thought Neville. “This must be some kind of historical library. If the drawer is any indication of what lies within this room, then this is an amazing source of history of the world. I wonder if it covers magical history, too. Or does it only record muggle stuff?”  
Neville continued looking at records in the drawer. They were chronologically ordered, with the newest in the front and the oldest at the end closest to the wall. The newest one was from 1971. It was about a muggle space craft from the United States called Apollo 15 landing on the moon with three astronauts. “Wow!” thought Neville. “Muggles have been to the moon. They are smarter than we think.”  
The oldest one was from Umm El Qa`āb -- -3100. (random) It was sketchy, mostly about a muggle named Narmer and learning to use a new writing system called Hieroglyphics.  
He continued looking through the hundreds of other files in the drawer. Once he got very far into negative numbers, the notation (random) was on most all of them. Also, the reports got sketchier and sketchier as the number went further into the negative range.  
After a fairly protracted amount of time snooping through the files, he decided he was hungry and should crawl back out through the tunnel. He would mark the board on the floor so he could come back and look at more files at a later date.  
He got down onto his knees and pulled out his wand. The lamp on the table went out as he said “Lumos,” and its light illuminated the crawlway. He was shocked to find the door closed when he got to the end. He pushed, shoved, hit and even managed to turn around and kick it. Nothing worked. He was sealed in. “There must be a lever somewhere nearby to open it,” he thought. He began looking, poking, prodding, scratching from one end of the crawlway to the other. Nothing presented itself. 


	3. I Wanna Go Home

Neville backed into the room and stood up. The lamp rekindled its flame. He started looking all around the opening for something that might reopen the door, but his was having no luck.   
Panicky feelings were starting to overtake his mind. He was trapped. He was not normally claustrophobic, but he was beginning to feel the room closing in on him. As he walked back toward the table, a fresh cup of tea appeared. It was accompanied with a scone and a red jam that looked to be either raspberry or strawberry. The candy jar was now filled with Bertie Bott’s Any Flavor Beans.  
He picked up a bean and carefully tasted it. It turned out to be caramel corn flavor. The next one was roast beef, followed by chocolate cake and butter beer. He was enjoying them immensely. Then he got an old diaper flavored one, and it was over.  
The scone, which had a strong vanilla note to it, was delicious with what turned out to be cherry preserves on it. It was a perfect partner to the cup of Chinese green tea.  
Neville picked up a bean and dropped it to the floor. He was startled by how loud it sounded as it bounced to a stop in the otherwise silent room. The little mouse flashed out of its hiding place. It picked up the bean and gave it a nibble, then dropped it as it began wiping its face with its paws. “Must be another disgusting one,” thought Neville as the mouse disappeared back into its hole.   
“There must be some kind of way out of here,” he thought. “Someone has been using this room for years, probably centuries. The whole place is designed for someone’s personal use. I just need to look closer. I am missing something. There has to be a door out of here.”  
He combed every inch of the room, pushing and pulling things, looked for loose floor boards, poked around the mouse hole, all to no avail. He sat back down on the chair and leaned back to rest his eyes for just a few seconds.  
He woke with a start. “How long have I been sleeping,” he wondered. Then he realized something had happened while he was asleep. There was a half-eaten piece of banoffee cake on the plate. The residual tea in the cup had cream in it. He had not put cream in his green tea. The ledger was rotated ninety degrees away from him. He noticed, as he turned it back, that it was turned to August 10th. The last entry, which looked like it had just been written, said Sanlúcar – 1519.  
As much as he was upset about being trapped inside this strange room, he was now even more unnerved by the notion he was not alone in here. There seemed to be at least one more person, as yet unseen, in here. Who was it, and why couldn’t he see them?  
“Hello,” said Neville, in a timid, tentative voice. “Is someone else here? I know you here. I see things that have been moved. Where are you?”  
He looked are, hoping someone would appear. Nothing happened. “WHERE ARE YOU?” he yelled, desperation in his voice. “WHERE ARE YOU?” Again, nothing happened.  
The weird clock caught his eye as he looked around the room for more evidence that someone had been here. The numbers had rotated ninety degrees, so that the 42 that had been at the top was now in the three o’clock position. He walked over to take a closer look.  
He looked at the slip of paper in the slot, remembering how the clock had acted the last time he touched it. With a quick pull, he removed the paper. It said Sanlúcar – 1519. He returned it to the slot just as the clock started to make noise, which caused him to jump back.  
Walking away from the clock, he found the drawer for August 10th. He carefully pulled it open. The files should be chronological. He leafed back until he found the spot where Sanlúcar – 1519 should be located. It was not there. On one side was an account for a 1316 battle near a place in Ireland called Athenry. The Connacht forces, supported by Edward Bruce of Scotland were dealt a horrific defeat by the force of the Lordship of Ireland and allies. Thousands died in a sunny field in County Galway, including two kings on the Connacht side, Fedlim Ó Conchobair and Tadhg Ó Cellaigh King of Uí Maine. Fedlim was only twenty-three at the time. It was noted how muggle commanders in the modern sit back and watch their armies fight and die, while back in these days they would lead the charge.  
Neville put the file back. In front of it was a short report on the Feast of St. Lawrence in Toledo. King Phillip II of Spain was planning the construction of a great palace in the mountains northwest of Madrid. He was going to call it El Escorial. It was going to become the grand home of Spanish kings.  
Where was the report for Sanlúcar – 1519? This was a very curious place, indeed. It was going to take a lot more investigating to get to full understanding.  
Neville was suddenly hit with an urge to go to relieve himself. What could he do? There was no bathroom attached to this room. He couldn’t get out. How did the other resident handle this situation? Then he noticed something under the table he had not seen prior to this moment.   
It was a chamber pot. He was positive it was not there earlier. His investigation of the room had been too thorough to have missed it. This room must provide you with whatever you need. Now, how do I convince it to give me a door back to the greenhouse?”  
Neville was glad he knew how to use a chamber pot. His bedroom at his grandmother’s was equipped with one, which he had used on a few occasions. He was glad to see a supply of paper in this one. His grandmother never furnished that necessity in the one at home.  
He took it to the far corner in the back of the room and made use of it. He could not explain why he had felt the need to do that, but he did. When he was finished, he walked back toward the table. A sandwich with corned beef and cheese appeared on the plate. A little pot of mustard sat next to it. The cup filled itself with a strong, black tea.   
Neville was amazed that he was not as ravenous as normal, that these little meals seemed to fill him quite well, and keep him from becoming hungry in-between. He wondered if the food was somehow enchanted to be able to sustain him, even though the quantity was small.   
The corned beef was of the highest quality, as was the rye bread and cheese. The cheese seemed to be fine Swiss, which was an excellent complement along with the piquant brown mustard. All in all it was a perfect sandwich.   
Neville finished the sandwich and stood up, sipping at his tea. A sandwich such as that required a strong tea. Whoever had designed the enchantments for the food and drinks was a real gourmet. As he turned around, he noticed the chamber pot was gone, adding to the mystic of the place.  
He concentrated on his need for an exit door while walking around the room, but none appeared. He even checked the tunnel entrance while wishing for a way out. This seemingly simple request was apparently outside of the room’s abilities to produce, or worse, desire to please its visitor.


	4. Oh Where, Oh Where

“Where is Neville?” asked Hermione to the others. They were all seated at the Gryffindor tables eating breakfast.  
“He’s probably sleeping late,” offered Ron. “I imagine he’ll be along.”  
“Why are you asking?” said Harry.  
“Don’t you remember?” she replied. “He fainted during Herbology. He wasn’t at lunch after that.”  
“He probably didn’t feel like eating after that,” said Ron.  
“Maybe,” agreed Hermione. “But I don’t remember seeing him at dinner, or at all after that class. Did any of you see him later in the day?”  
There was a hesitation among those listening as they tried to recollect any late in the day encounters. No one could recall seeing him.  
“That is strange,” said Seamus. “He’s not one to wander off on his own. I wonder what he could be up to?”  
“I think someone needs to check back in the dorms to see if he is there. I’m worried, even if you aren’t,” said Hermione.   
“Go ahead then,” said Ron, not wanting to make that long walk up the tower stairs. “Go check, ya nutter.”  
“You know I can’t go in the boy’s dormitory,” said Hermione in a curt manner. “One of you boys needs to do it.”  
“Ya, right,” said Ron, not liking it. “C’mon, Harry. Let’s go check so we can relax.”  
“Why me?” asked Harry, still eating some eggs and sausage. “You can do it?”  
“Just c’mon, Harry,” pleaded Ron as Seamus, Dean and several other looked on, most of them smirking. Ginny smiled at Harry.  
Ron got up and made a sandwich of sorts from a couple pieces of toast and some sausages. Harry took a few fast bites of his remaining food and rose up to go with Ron on their mission.  
“Thank you,” said Hermione.  
Ron and Harry walked off toward the stairway munching their last bites of breakfast. As they started to ascend the stairs, Ron said, “Hermione can be a bit annoying when she gets onto something like this.”  
“Yes,” agreed Harry. “I guess we might as well do it. We’ll never hear the end until it gets done.”   
They continued climbing until they finally reached the landing with the portrait of the fat lady. “Flibbertigibbet,” said Ron. The portrait opened they made their way inside the common room.   
The common room was vacant. The only sounds were the crackling of the embers in the fireplace and the constant winds of the upper castle against the windows. They checked the couches and chair to see if he had curled up in one. He was not there.   
They made their way to their dorm. He was not in his bed, which did not appear to have been slept in. They checked all around the room, then went into all of the other dorm rooms and checked, just in case. Neville was not in any of them.  
“I am starting to worry a bit,” said Ron, the concern evident in his voice.  
“Maybe Hermione is onto something,” agreed Harry. “It is strange for Neville to be missing like this. It is rare for him to go anywhere on his own.”  
They exited the dormitory and walked to the nearby lavatory. It was vacant, except for Peeves, who started throwing soap at them. They tried to ask Peeves if he had seen Neville. Peeves, being Peeves, never gave them a direct answer, but they got a pretty firm feeling that he did not know Neville’s whereabouts.   
“What are we going to tell Hermione when we get back down there?” asked Ron.  
“We tell her we couldn’t find him.”  
“You know that won’t satisfy her. She will have more ideas for us to do.”  
“Where else might he be, then?”  
“He spends a lot of time in the library looking at plant books,” offered Ron.   
“Okay, let’s check there on the way back. Maybe that will satisfy her for now.”  
No one was in the library, except for Irma Pince, the librarian. “They asked her if she had seen Neville.  
“He was here a couple days ago,” she said. “I haven’t seen him, recently. That’s a bit odd. He is usually here for at least a few minutes every day.”  
Leaving the library, they made it back to the great hall just as everyone was leaving for class.   
“Well?” said Hermione, walking up to them.  
“We couldn’t find him,” said Ron, the concern in his voice missed by Hermione, who continued her questions.  
“Where did you look?”  
“Everywhere,” said Ron, irritated at her tone, like she was talking to a pair a little kids who couldn’t find a favorite toy.  
“Where is everywhere?”  
“Common room, ALL of the boy’s dorm rooms, the lavatory, the…”  
“…We need to check the library,” she said as they walked toward the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.  
“We already did,” said Harry with a self-congratulatory look.  
“Really?” she answered, taken aback. “Brilliant.”  
“We are getting worried, too,” said Ron, his voice sounding that way. “We kind of thought you were over-reacting at first. But now, we are thinking something is wrong, too.”  
They made their way through another misguided session with Professor Lockhart. Several students received Doxy bites requiring quick trips to the hospital wing for dose of antidote. Lockhart fled the room when his attempt to jinx them failed, leaving the class to fight them on their own. It was a chaotic scene, reminiscent of the Cornish pixie fiasco on the first day of class.  
Fortunately, Hermione had read about the Knockback Jinx. “Flipendo! Flipendo!” she shouted several times as she pointed her wand at the fleeing Biting Fairies. Once the doxy were caged the bitten students were hurried off for medical attention.  
“We need to tell Professor McGonagall,” said Hermione as they were exiting the class.  
“Tell her about Lockhart?” asked Ron.  
“No, Neville,” she said, looking at Ron with a “how dim are you?” expression.  
“Oh, right,” he replied.  
“I think she is already onto Lockhart,” added Harry. “Everyone is starting to see he is a bit off.”  
The hallways were full of students scurrying between classes. It was always a loud, frenzied chaos during class change. Many students had to make it from the top of one tower to the top of another in the time allotted. There was not a lot of time for socialization or courtesy. Even Peeves ignored this time of day. There was too much competition for him to enjoy his antics.  
Professor McGonagall was outside her Transfiguration classroom trying to direct traffic when they spotted her. They approached her with Hermione in the lead.  
“Excuse us, professor,” she said.  
“What is it, you three,” she smiled, having experience the three of them coming to her about any number of things.  
“It’s Neville, professor. He’s missing.  
“Missing?” she said, giving them a serious, but curious look. Whatever are you talking about?”  
“He fainted yesterday in Herbology class,” began Hermione.  
“Yes, I heard about that. It is common when repotting young mandrakes, if you are not careful with your earmuffs. You just leave them on the floor until they come back around. It is not serious.”  
“Yes, ma’am,” replied Hermione, trying to get to her point. “That is not the concern.”  
“Go on, then, Miss Granger,” she said.  
“We left him be and went outside to look at some open plantings. When we came back, he was gone.”  
“Perfectly normal if he came to and found himself alone. He probably thought class was over and left.”  
“That is what we told her,” said Harry. Hermione looked at him, wanting him to be quiet so she could continue.  
“We went to lunch after class. No one in his Arithmancy or Divination classes remember him being there in the afternoon. He was not at dinner, either.”  
“That is unusual. He was not at breakfast this morning. Harry and Ron searched the dormitories, lavatory and library. No one can find him.”  
“This is serious, indeed,” said Professor McGonagall, the tone of her voice changed to a tone more serious than her normal, serious tone. “We need to look into this. I will go see Professor Dumbledore. We will start an investigation at once.”  
They parted company, scurrying to make their next classes. Professor McGonagall headed off in the direction of the headmaster’s office.


	5. Searchin'

Professor Dumbledore was very concerned with the news from Professor McGonagall. After last year’s situation with the Sorcerer’s Stone and the reemergence of Voldemort, even it was it a non-corporeal form, he was very sensitive to anything outside the ordinary, at least ordinary by Hogwart’s standards.  
He immediately spoke to several of the pictures on the wall, asking them to institute an immediate check with all of the pictures in the castle as to whether or not they had seen Neville. He then headed out of his office with Professor McGonagall to try other avenues of search. Meeting up with the Fat Friar, he asked him to round up the other ghost to make a thorough search of the grounds. He felt certain something would turn up.   
He left the castle to go into the Dark Forest. There was no need to leave any stones unturned. He went by way of the greenhouses, lingering and looking for traces of anything suspicious. Nothing out of the ordinary presented itself.  
Hagrid’s house was on the edge of the forest. He decided to stop for a brandy before entering the forest. That would give him a chance to ask Hagrid if he had any insights into the whereabouts of Neville.  
Good afternoon, perfesser,” said Hagrid, answering the knock on his door. “Come in, come in. Always good to see you, perfesser.”  
“Ah, Hagrid. It is good to pay you a visit down here. I always like the walk out of the castle. There are some many delightful sight, sounds and smell. It is a pleasant trip.”  
Hagrid placed two glasses on the table and poured a generous portion of brandy into each of them. “There ya go, sir. I reckon you won’t be sayin’ no to a glass of this.”  
“Thank you, Hagrid. I do enjoy an occasional sip of brandy,” he said, picking up his glass and taking a sip. “That is delicious, indeed. But, alas, I am here on business. So, we must discuss that before we enjoy this too much, I’m afraid.”  
“What is it that bring you here, perfesser?” said Hagrid, a bit nervous as anyone might be at a bit of news such as that.  
“We have a student missing. Neville Longbottom. I am certain you know him.”  
“Of course I know him. You say he is missin’?” said Hagrid with a shocked tone. “You aren’t s’posin’ there be somethin’ evil runnin’ bout the castle, do ya? Maybe he just run off or somethin’”  
“Alas, I don’t think Neville would run off,” said Dumbledore. “He doesn’t have anywhere to go except his grandmother’s house, and he would much rather be here than there. I fear something stranger is happening. We need to use all of our wits to discover it.”  
“Certainly. I’ll search bout the grounds. Neville is a good sort. I don’t want nuthin’ bad happenin’ to ‘im.”  
“Good. I am going to search about the forest. I will come back to see you later.”  
Dumbledore exited Hagrid’s home, thanking him for the brandy. He walked off toward the Dark Forest as Hagrid came out the door, flanked by Fang.   
The Dark Forest offered up no clues as Dumbledore walked about. He looked through many places until he heard the sound of hooves in the trees nearby.  
“Greeting, Firenze,” he said as a group of centaurs emerged and walked in his direction.   
“Good day,” said Firenze. “What brings you into the forest? I haven’t seen you here in quite some time.”  
“I am searching for a lost student, I’m afraid. I am wondering if you might have seen him?”  
Dumbledore explain who he was looking for and gave a description. Firenze conferred with the others. They said they had not seen anyone except Hagrid in the past few days. They promised to send a message if they did.  
Dumbledore continued his search, revealing nothing relevant. He finally gave up on the idea that Neville had gotten lost in the forest. It was a long walk back with nothing to show for it.  
Hagrid made his way about the grounds, visiting all sorts of places, including the cave of his former pet acromantula, Aragog. His last search was an extended walk along the shores of the Black Lake. He was fortunate to encounter a group of merpeople. He managed a conversation with them that included him asking the questions, then sticking his head underwater, so they could answer him.   
They said they knew who he was, as he frequently was seen wading around, investigating water plants. They were certain he had not met his fate in the lake, but they would send a message if they learned any new information.  
Neville had given up his latest search for an exit door and fallen asleep on the floor, using the cushion as a pillow. When he awoke, he had a sense that someone had been there.  
He stood up and noticed the ledger had once again been moved. There were crumbs from a cake on the plate and the last few drops of tea in the cup. The top was off the candy bowl. It was half full of acid pops. He took a couple, being careful to enjoy them slowly, making certain the filling was not the kind that might burn a hole through his tongue. They turned out to be quite good and safe.   
The ledger had been turned to January 19th. A freshly inked entry said: Roselle – 1883. He remembered the previous entry of Sanlúcar – 1519. He went back to the drawer for August 10th and pulled it open. Leafing back, he found the spot which had not produced the entry earlier. To his surprise, he found a fresh, rather lengthy entry there about Magellan leaving on a planned trip around the world.  
As he read it, it appeared that the recorder of the event, the same Zaman Bahar, had taken a place among a group of about 270 sailors on Magellan’s fleet of five ships.   
Unlike the previous reports he had read, this one went on for pages and instead of all taking place on the same day, it went on for years, ending with the surviving members of the expedition finally making port back in Spain on September 6, 1522. It was a fascinating account, and took considerable time to read. The perils and hardships, from disease and starvation, to attacks by natives, the survivors had endured were considerable. It was unclear how the recorder had made it through the trip without suffering the same hardship, even to the point of perishing like them majority of the crew did.   
He looked at the clock, which had once again changed. The numbers were back in there original position, but facing the other direction. He quickly removed and then replaced the slip of paper in the slot. It said Roselle – 1883. The pattern of this place was starting to be become predictable. However, how to make sense of it, use it, find a way back home, was not evident.   
“Now,” he thought as he turned away from the clock, “food should appear on the table.  
His prediction proved correct. A stack of chocolate chip cookies, smelling still warm from the oven, appeared on the plate. The cup filled itself with a nice, medium-bodied tea, perhaps Darjeeling. Its steam scented the air with its quality. The candy bowl was found to contain licorice snaps, a candy he liked, but feared ever since he was bitten by several of them.  
After finishing the cookies and tea, he felt a nap calling to him. He leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. Before long, he was sound asleep.  
“What could have happened to Neville?” asked Hermione, sounding frustrated. “Where could he have gone?  
Neville’s disappearance was now the talk of the school. Everyone was pondering ideas and offering theories. No evidence or clues hinting at his location had been found. Even Draco, who was very fond of making snide remarks at Neville’s expense was holding his tongue.


	6. Solving a Puzzle with No Pieces

“I cudn’t find nuthin’, perfesser,” said Hagrid, sounding disappointed. “I looked everywhere, even talked to Aragog, the merpeople and giants. None’ve them has seen nuthin’, they haven’t.”  
“Don’t despair, Hagrid. I have had no more luck with my searches” replied Dumbledore. It is all most peculiar. I even went to the place where he fainted in the greenhouse to scan for traces of dark magic. There were no magical traces, good or bad, to be found.”  
“What ever shall we do, Albus?” asked Professor McGonagall.   
“I believe we need to notify his grandmother, of course. Then we will probably have to notify the Ministry. They will want to send some aurors to look into this. I feel we are at a loss to do more. Severus, do you have any ideas? Is the anything we have missed? What is your opinion?”  
“I am sorry, headmaster” said Severus. “Longbottom is a quiet, meek student. I would not expect him to volun…tarily do something so…un…predic…table. Maybe we need to look beyond the realm of normal magic. Perhaps you have some ideas, Gilderoy. This is part of your field of excellence.”  
“Of course, I have some ideas,” started Lockhart, oversmiling, as is his nature while expressing his cocksure smoke screens. “I should probably start exploring this, so we can put it to rest.  
He then got up and headed out of the room, presumably to begin his investigation. Everyone looked at each other with incredulous expressions. Snape, in particular, looked very disturbed by Lockhart’s abrupt, glib disappearance.  
“I will dispatch a pair of owls immediately,” stated Dumbledore, not saying what everyone was thinking.  
The students were all gathering in the Great Hall for dinner. It had been a long day filled with many tests.  
“I wonder if Professor Dumbledore has discovered anything more about Neville?” asked Hermione.  
“Are you still going on about that?” asked Ron.  
“Yes, Ronald,” she replied in an irritated voice. “He’s a Gryffindor and our classmate, and a friend,” she shot back, emphasizing the word friend.  
‘She’s right, Ron,” said Harry, looking at him as he made an expression recognizing his lack of discretion and compassion.  
They ate, not conversing as much as usual after that exchange. The small amount of conversation they did have focused on the upcoming quidditch match with Ravenclaw and wondering if they were still going to be allowed to go into Hogsmeade considering the situation with Neville.  
Percy, who had been talking at the head table, came to the three of them and informed them Professor Dumbledore would like to speak to them at the end of dinner. Naturally, this made them anxious, as it would anyone called to meet with the Headmaster. They hoped for, but doubted it be to give them good news.   
Neville woke up from his nap needing to go potty. The chamber pot was under the table, ready for his use. He took it to the corner of the room and used it, leaving it there as he walked back toward the chair to continue his nap. Suddenly, the clock came to life, whizzing and purring as the numbers spun and rotated in a clockwise direction.  
He got a funny, prickly feeling, then a man dressed in strange, purplish robe with unusual patterns resembling runes and astronomy symbols appeared from nowhere. He had very long, grey hair with a matching beard, not unlike a slighter version of Dumbledore. His eyes were a purple, similar to his robe. His expression was surprised, but friendly looking.   
“I am Zaman Bahar, third director of The Recorders. This is my place,” he said with a bit of a flair. “I was wondering if you would ever wake up. Who might you be?”  
“Ne-Neville Longbottom, sir,” replied Neville in a weak voice.  
“Well, Neville Longbottom, how do you come to be here? I have not had a visitor in, well, in longer than I can recall.”  
“I came in through there,” he said, pointing at the dark tunnel. “I found it by accident. I probably should have…”  
“…ah, never mind. I should have fixed that years ago. I don’t even remember why it is there. There used to be a reason of some kind. Not to worry.”  
“Wh-wh-what is this place?” asked Neville in a nervous, small voice.  
“It’s a Recorders Office, of course.  
“What is that? I never heard of a Recorders Office.”  
“It is an office where recorders, such as myself, record all of the events of our travels for the Grand Encyclopedic Compendium Universal Library. This room is full of my reports for the library. AH YES!” he suddenly exclaimed. “That is what that entrance is for. It is where the librarians come in to collect reports and to bring new apprentices. Are you my new apprentice? Am I finally going to be replaced and retired? Or, maybe, promoted!”  
“No, sir. I am just Neville.  
“Well, just Neville. We need to sort you out. It is not proper to just have you hanging around here. I must figure out what to do about you. But first, I need a bite to eat.”  
A cup of tea smelling of jasmine was steaming in the cup. Beside it was a large, delicious-looking scone and some clotted cream. Opening the candy bowl, he found it full of toffees. He took one and offered the bowl to Neville, who took three or four of the hard candies.  
Zaman continued writing a report with the quill on the table as he ate. When he finished, he turned to Neville and said, “This is a recorder report. It details the event we have been observing. The drawers are full of them.”  
“Yes, sir. I have peeked at a few of them,” said Neville sheepishly.  
“Good,” was the reply. “That is what they are for. They don’t serve much purpose if no one reads them. How did you find them?  
“They are fascinating. Did you really see all of these things, yourself?”  
“Yes, of course,” he said it a voice indicating his satisfaction with all that he had done. “All of these are mine. I have gone to many places and seen many things during my time.”  
“That is fascinating,” said Neville, a bit in awe, even though he still did not have a grip on the entire situation. How long did it take you to do this? How old are you? There are a lot of reports in here.”  
“We have been on Earth since what you call ancient times. Anywhere you see ancient pyramids, we were there, living inside them. A few of us still do live inside a pyramid. Our leader lives in a very fancy, modern pyramid in a city called Las Vegas over in the United States. As for me, we don’t real measure time like you do. But I will say that I did this job from start to finish on two other worlds before coming here. We only age when we are not inside time doing a report. So it is complicated to quantify.”  
“So, you are very ancient,” said Neville. “But what about here? There aren’t any old pyramids in the UK.”  
“No, there aren’t. We started to build one, but never finished it. I had a different place built over near Wiltshire. The muggles, as you call them, refer to it as Stonehenge. My office was hidden beneath it for a long time.”  
“That is interesting. Magic folks have lots of theories about that place, too,” noted Neville.   
“I moved into Hogwarts after it was built. We felt it was an ideal spot to have an office. Several other magical schools are now homes to Recorders. Of course, none of them are aware of that fact. BUT,” he continued. “Now we have a complication. What do we do about you? I will have to meet with my fellow recorders and come up with a plan.”  
“A plan about me?” asked Neville, not liking the way that felt or sounded.


	7. The New Job

Zaman was gone for a long time. Neville busied himself reading reports. After their talk, he had found a new interest in them. The files in the room were real, first-hand accounts of thousands and thousands of events in the history of the planet and the people inhabiting it. He read about natural disasters, such as volcanoes erupting, earthquakes, floods and typhoons. He read about wars, sporting events, musical events. The list of things seemed to be endless. He imagined Hermione would consider this place to be like heaven.  
Just as Neville was finishing some delicious herbal tea, it tasted like blackberries, and very chocolatey brownies, Zaman reappeared.  
“Ah, Neville,” he said. We had a very interesting meeting. What did you do while I was gone?  
“I read some more reports,” he answered, wiping brownie crumbs from his face and robe.  
“Excellent. You should read as many as you can. They are a great wealth of knowledge about your world. You can never know too much.”  
Neville nodded in agreement. However, the meeting about him was in the front of his mind. What was going to happen to him? He wanted to know, but was afraid to ask.  
“I suppose you are anxious to know about the meeting,” said Zaman.  
“Yes, sir. I am very interested.”  
“Well,” he began. “The last time this happened was on a different planet before civilization even arose on Earth. The recorders on that planet met at the library. It was decided to make to visitor an apprentice. That worked out fines, as it were. That person is still a Recorder to this day. They want to do the same with you. They want you to become an apprentice recorder. You will work with me.”  
“I’m going to be a recorder like you?” he asked, trying to get his mind wrapped around what he had just been told.  
“You’re going to be an apprentice. I will watch you and train you. If you learn well, then you may become a recorder sometime in the future. It will depend on how you do.”  
This was all quite scary. He had not considered this possibility. He was glad they were not going to kill him. But he had hoped for some kind of plan that would return him to life as Neville Longbottom, student at Hogwarts. Apparently, that was too much to hope for.  
“So, Neville, we may as well begin,” said Zaman, walking toward the table, which now had two chairs and a second set of tableware. “Sit down and I’ll explain things.  
Neville took his place at the table in the new chair. Both of their cups filled themselves with hot tea. Zaman’s plate had some shortbread biscuits that were half-dipped in what looked like strawberry icing. Neville’s plate held a very large chocolate donut covered in a sprinkling of powdered sugar.  
“Okay, let’s begin with the basics. We are the Council of Recorders, Earth Group. We are part of a larger network of Recorders that span the entire universe. I have no idea as to the actual number of teams, but it is enormous…too many to count. Each group studies a planet with a culture advanced enough to warrant recording.”  
“Our headquarters, well, you have been there, is the Grand Encyclopedic Compendium Universal Library. All of the Recorder groups from throughout the universe report there. All of the collected records of all recorders are there, in the library. They can be accessed by anyone needing information. All you need is a library watch,” he said, pointing to the one on his wrist.”  
“Am I going to get one of those?” asked Neville.   
“Not yet. First you will have to complete your basic training. The people on Earth are not ready for the ability to access the knowledge collected in the library. We will have to watch the progress of people here. I suspect that Earth will be ready for that knowledge in a thousand years or so. Making that decision will be part of what we do as a group.”  
“You are saying there are people on other planets that are more advanced than Earth?”  
“Yes, a vast number of them. But they all went through similar growth to Earth. We have recorded, or are actively recording their journey through time. The point is they survived the self-destructive tendencies that still exist here. There are great differences in them, but the common element is that they have learned to peacefully exist with themselves and their neighbors. Alas, there are also unfriendly cultures throughout the universe, but they will never get access to the library until they give up the evil, destructive nature. The library is dedicated to spreading peace through its information, not evil.”  
“Wow. This is almost too much to believe.”  
“Yes, I imagine this is overwhelming. No one from a culture at your level of development has ever been given access to all of this. You will just need to be patient, and listen and learn. It will take time, but now, you are going to have an almost unlimited amount of it.”  
“Okay. I promise I will do my best. I am a good student.”  
“I am sure you are,” continued Zaman. “Now, before we go any further, I need to explain to you the single most important thing you will need to know as a Recorder.”  
“What is that, sir?”  
“Never do anything that will change the timeline. We are there to observe and write a report, nothing more. If you see a person about to get run over by a trolley, let it happen. If someone trips, and spills their packages, let them deal with them. The simplest thing could have grave results,” said Zaman, trying to impress the seriousness of his words. “Stopping someone from being killed, hurt or embarrassed could cause a chain of events that will totally destroy the timeline. It is our responsibility to observe and record history, not change it. Look, but do not touch.”  
“Yes, sir,” said Neville. “Only observe and record.”  
“Now, if you feel ready, we can try one. Here is a notebook and pen,” he said, taking them from the shelf by the ledgers and handing them to him. “Write down you observations, and we will compare them when we return back here.”  
“Where are we going?  
“I have selected a sporting event. They are usually pretty easy to report on. This one is American Football game called the AFL-NFL World Championship Game. It takes place on January 15, 1967 in Los Angeles, California in the United States. They now call this game the Super Bowl. So this is now called Super Bowl 1. It should be entertaining.”  
“I think I will like this. I like watching sports.”  
“Okay. Just remember the rules,” said Zaman, who was looking at Neville as he nodded in the affirmative. “Now watch how we do this.”  
Zaman went to the ledger on the table and opened it to January 15. He picked up a paper and wrote Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum – 1967 on it. “Now we fold it in half and go to the clock. Grab my arm so we are connected. Then put it in the slot.”  
There was a slight pause, and then the clock came to life. The numbers spun and rotated as clicks and whirring noises filled the air. Suddenly, they were standing in a sunny, warm place. Their clothes had changed to fit in with the others attending the event, but to not draw attention. Zaman was where khaki pants and a long-sleeved blue shirt with a surfer on it. Neville was attired in jeans and light blue t-shirt with an emblem for a band called The Grateful Dead. He liked it a lot. They purchased event hats to help blend into the background.  
People were hurriedly scurrying about. Many of the people were dressed in outfits of green and a yellowish gold theme with emblems such as a large G or the word Packers on them. Other people where in red and yellow, often with an arrowhead with KC in it.   
Neville looked at Zaman. He was already taking notes. “We are trying to capture the entire event,” said Zaman. “You should start by noting the atmosphere, weather, everything going on.”  
The weather is sunny and mild wrote Neville. The fans are very excited, walking around in the team colors of green and gold, or red and yellow. Vendors are selling all types of souvenirs and food. It is like a trip to a professional quidditch match.  
They secured tickets and entered the game. Zaman had a pouch that would give him money of “any and all types” according to him. He paid for them and they entered, eventually finding the seat near the top of the stadium on the 25 yard line. The view was quite acceptable.  
The first half of the game was very competitive. Green Bay led by a score of 14-10. The fans on all sides of them were exceptionally boisterous, making for an exciting event. They sampled the snacks from the vendors. Neville liked the Cracker Jacks, but said they are bit boring compared to wizard candies. Zaman said the sausages, called hotdogs, were tasty if you covered them with some mustard, onions and relish.   
Green Bay controlled the second half of the game, preventing any scoring by Kansas City. The game ended with a score of Green Bay 35 – Kansas City 10.   
“It is time to return home,” said Zaman, pulling up the sleeve of his shirt to reveal his watch. The green light on it was glowing brightly. “I will get you one of these after we have done a few more trips. Once I am comfortable with your abilities, I will need to send you out on your own to a few places I have already visited. Then we will get to see how you do on your own.”  
Zaman looked around to see if they were being observed. He once again had Neville grasp his arm as he pushed the button on the side of his watch. They were instantly back in the Recorders Office. Zaman pulled the paper out of the clock and looked at Neville. “There you go,” he said. “How did you like your first time trip?”  
“It was fun…uh, uh…really cool,” stammered Neville, at a bit of a loss for words. “We saw something that…that happened more than twenty years before I was born.”  
“Yes, the first time is a bit overwhelming. My first trip on Earth was to see Abraham Lincoln read his Gettysburg Address in 1863. My second trip was seeing him assassinated in 1865. That was a real tragedy. A major event in the history of the United States and entire world. We may do them again for comparison of reports. Now, let’s look at our reports from today.”  
Neville opened his note book. It had a couple pages of notes scribbled in it. Zaman opened his, as well. His notes were more extensive, and were much more orderly. They both placed their books on the table.  
Zaman read over Neville’s notes, going “hmmmmm” and “okay, okay.” Neville looked on, hoping that his review would be favorable, and that Zaman would not treat him like Snape, chastising him for the smallest of errors.  
“This is a good first effort, Neville. You caught all of the facts about the event…scores, crowd size, big plays, standout players. What you need to make this a finished report is more of the surroundings that will color this into a complete picture of the event. You should describe the clothing of the fans, their behavior. You should talk about the food and drinks available. It would be good to mention the entertainment between the halves. The bands were good, and that trumpet player, Al Hirt could really play. Do you see what I am saying?”  
“Yes, I see. I will be sure to get more of that next time,” said Neville, feeling pretty good about his first try at being a recorder.  
“We should try another one, but let’s have a bite to eat, first,” said Zaman as their cups filled with tea smelling distinctly of peppermint. Both of their plates contained a Reuben sandwich and a pickle.  
“Are we going to another American football game?” inquired Neville.  
“No, I have something else in mind. I think you will approve. I found it very interesting the first time I viewed it. You should better understand it, and enjoy it.”


	8. Learning the Ropes

They finished their sandwiches and tea. Zaman turned the ledger to the date August 3. He then took a piece of paper and wrote Black Forest near Bad Wildbad – 1473. Getting up, Zaman walked to the clock and waited for Neville, who was collecting his book and pen.   
Once again Zaman folded the paper and slid it into the slot. A moment later they were standing in the midst of a forest. “This is the Black Forest of Germany.”  
“Is it really the year 1473,” asked Neville.  
“Yes, why?”  
“It doesn’t look any different than regular time back at Hogwarts.”  
“Well, what did you expect, dinosaurs and cavemen?” said Zaman with a bit of a chuckle. “Just because the year changed, it doesn’t mean it will be a completely different world.”   
Zaman looked at his watch. “We need to go this way,” he said, pointing toward the sun. What we are looking for should be over there.”  
“They walked for a bit, eventually starting to smell the smoke of woodfires and food. As they got closer to the source of the smells, they started hearing voices.  
The wood opened into a clearing and Neville recognized the structure of a quidditch pitch. “Are we going to a quidditch game,” he asked.  
“Not just a quidditch game,” came the reply. “This is the very first Quidditch World Cup Championship game. It should be quite an event.”  
“Wow!” said Neville. “The very first one. Amazing.”  
Zaman started writing. Neville, remembering what he had been told, also started capturing the picture of the build up to the event.   
Everyone clearly appeared to be magical folks. The dress was similar to modern times, but more basic. Children were playing with interesting toys and practicing basic magic. Adults were talking and making food. Vendors were selling a wide variety of oddities. Neville chronicled everything, trying to paint a complete picture.   
The competitors for the game were Transylvania and Flanders. The Transylvania fans were wearing black, lots of black, with blood red accents, making their pale complexions look even paler. Many of them had bloody red paint runs coming from their mouths.   
The Flanders fans were dressed in gold with black dragon insignias. A large percentage of them had blond or reddish-blond hair and blue eyes. Most of the adults were drinking large tankards of beer and eating cheese and sausages.   
The fans all started to fill the stadium as game time neared. The Flanders fans were singing cheerfully. The Transylvania fans were much more sedate, many staying in the shadows of the trees. As they walked to the stadium, a fair percentage were wearing capes with hoods over their heads, even though it was a warm, sunny day.  
Once they made it inside, it was an interesting scene. All of the Transylvania fans were in the seats that had fallen into the shade created by the stadium walls. The Flanders fans were everywhere else, enjoying the warm sunshine.   
The Flanders team were the first to enter the pitch. They were all muscular, big, blond men, except for the seeker, who was a smaller, but equally blond, young witch. She darted to and fro like a hummingbird in a garden full of flowers.   
Several minutes passed, as the sun slipped below the top edge of the stadium. Then there was a sudden blast of unexpected cold air as the Transylvanian team entered. Neville had heard people talking about the team not having any human members. Some said they were a team entirely made up from vampires, demons and werewolves. Their appearance did nothing to dispel the rumor.  
Once the quaffle was released, the game quickly devolved into nothing Neville had ever seen on a quidditch pitch at Hogwarts. By the time the game ended, every single one of the over seven-hundred potential quidditch fouls had been called, some several times. Many new ones were also created.  
A Flanders beater went after the Transylvanian keeper with a broad sword, trying to behead him. That ended when a different Transylvania player transfigured the swordsman into a polecat. The game went late into the night with it finally being called without a declared winner after the Transylvania captain released at least one-hundred vampire bats onto the pitch from under his robes. Neville was aghast, having never dreamed of such mayhem on a quidditch pitch, by the end.  
Once they had returned to the office, Neville sat and organized his report while Zaman did the same. When he was finished, he handed it to Zaman, who said this was much, much better. “Now you are capturing the entire event,” he said. “It gives a good feel of the event to the reader. That is the key to a good report. You want the readers to feel a desire to see it for themselves. We will do a couple more, then we will go to the library, so you can see how the system converts reports into video representations. We’ll also see about getting you a watch, so you can capture images to be included. I will show you a bit about taking images with a watch on our next trip. I can see you writing a report well enough to submit in the near future. You have pretty good writing skills.”  
“Thanks,” said Neville. “I think this is going to be fun. I am enjoying going places, already. I miss my family and friends, but I am feeling mostly okay.”  
Four trips, and four increasingly better reports later, Zaman said it was time to visit the library for a break and to learn more about what they were doing. He pulled a glittering card from his pocket and walked over to the clock. “This is a library card,” he said, holding it up for Neville to examine. “When you become a Recorder, you will be issued one. This is the only way in and out of the library. Grab my arm, and let’s go see some interesting stuff.”  
Zaman inserted the card and they instantly appeared in the room they had been in on their first visit. They walked down the hall to a room with a big screen that looked like a muggle television. On the table was a smaller screen with a keyboard in front of it. Neville had seen muggle computers, but had never actually used one. He watched Zaman as he sat down at the table.  
“This is how you access all of the information in the library,” he said, pulling the chair up to the keyboard. “There are millions of theses on millions of worlds throughout the universe. Like I said before, the encyclopedia is available to all peace-minded, advanced cultures. You will also be able to access a compact version of the encyclopedia through your watch. It is the greatest resource for information in the universe. It is the culmination of millions of years of work by hundreds of millions of recorders. A person can go from one end of the universe to the other, and not get lost, using it. They can do that in just about any time period, as well.”  
“Amazing. So, I can see other planets, and everything?”  
“Not yet. I can’t show them to you until you become a recorder. For now, all I can show you is Earth. So,” said Zaman, clapping his hands,” let’s look at some examples.   
“The first thing they looked at was the quidditch game they had just attended. The view on the big screen was a good representation of the event cut down into a five-minute video. According to the information at the end, it was a composite of twenty-seven collected reports on the event.  
“I should have mentioned that,” said Zaman. “The entries are all put together from all of the various reports from all of the recorders who have seen it. The more reports, the more detailed and accurate the reports. That is a major part of why the encyclopedia is so good.”  
They looked at several more, then Zaman said it was time to get Neville a watch. It was a necessary step in moving him forward to a time when his reports would be joining others in creating the encyclopedia.  
They eventually found themselves back in the office. Neville was examining his watch and the coin purse he had been given. Zaman gave him another run through on the watch. Neville felt confident with the basic settings and usage. The coin purse was quite simple. It always had a supply of local money inside. Recorders never hurt for cash during their trips. It was a very handy perk.  
Neville said he was tired. A mat with a pillow and blanket appeared in the corner. This was an upgrade from sleeping at the table or on the floor. He laid down and closed his eyes. He was asleep in nothing flat.


	9. A Scary Time

When Neville awoke, Zaman was gone. There was a slip of paper in the clock. He was apparently visiting someplace to create a report. He had never asked Zaman about where he came from. Did he come from Earth? Or was he from another planet? Maybe he was from a planet where people did not sleep like humans on Earth.  
He went to the table and enjoyed a cup of tea with some raspberry-filled donuts. The candy jar was filled with white chocolate frogs. He ate several.  
Just as he was getting up to look at a few reports, Zaman reappeared. “Ah, you are awake. Interesting concept, sleep. Not all cultures partake of it. My culture only sleeps about once every three months, by your time measurement. Of course, when we sleep, it is for about three days, by your measurement. I hope to have you ready to do a few trips on your own by the next time I need to sleep. That would be most useful for both of us. For now, we should do more trips. You need to get the hang of your watch.”  
“Yes,” said Neville. “That is a good idea. I want to learn.  
“Good. Good,” repeated Zaman. “I want you to learn and to enjoy being a recorder. Happy recorders do the best work.”  
They made hundreds more trips over the next few days of Earth time. He saw many wonders and wrote many reports with images to enhance them. “That was fun,” said Zaman as they reappeared from their latest trip. “Who would have thought so many young people could gather for such an extravaganza? Woodstock will surely hold a fond spot in the hearts of many people for a long time. I am glad I finally attended it.”  
“Yes,” agreed Neville. “So much music and so much peaceful enjoyment. Even the rain and lack of food did not ruin it. I think this was the most peaceful gathering of muggles I have seen, so far. If all muggles could exist like this, instead of fighting so much of the time, the world would be a better place, I think.”  
“Well, finish up your report, and let’s see what you have. Put the sentiments and feelings you just expressed into it. You may be ready for your first keeper of a report.”  
Neville wrote away for a long time while sipping a red tea and enjoying a plate of potstickers. He had a satisfied smile when he handed it to Zaman for review. Zaman took it and started to review Neville’s account of the event, nodding his head as he read.  
“I think you have done it, Neville,” he said with a big smile. “I think this one is ready to be added to the encyclopedia.”  
Neville smiled. “Thank you. I am glad you like it. I really felt good about it. I feel ready to contribute.”  
“Excellent. I think we have time for one more before I need to rest. This will be a real test. The last thing we do in training is show you wars. They are not just complicated to report, they are dangerous. You will need to learn the shield function of the watch. Several recorders lost their lives reporting on wars before this function was created. Used correctly, you can record without being killed during a battle. The trick is to record safely without scaring the people around you. You cannot just stand in the middle of a battle with bullets bouncing off your shield and bombs not blowing you up. You need to balance your protected status with not making it obvious you are protected by some kind of ‘magic trick’.  
“Oh, okay. I will watch you. This sounds a little tricky.”  
Zaman turned the book to June 30. He took a paper and wrote down Gettysburg. “I have done this one before, so I know what to expect. That way I can spend more time teaching without worrying so much about what is happening.”  
“Good,” said Neville. “I will watch very closely.”  
“Look at the buttons on your watch,” said Zaman, pointing to one at the eight o’clock position.  
He pushed the button and said try to hit me.  
“What?”  
“Try to hit me.”  
Neville punched at him. His hand hit an invisible barrier that stung his fist. “Ouch!” he said, shocked by the surprise between him and Zaman.  
“That barrier will stop anything that can come at you on Earth and most other planets. You are going to need it where we are going. Give it a try.”  
Neville pushed the button. He felt a little push of air, like someone had just closed a door. Zaman reached out and thumped the shield. “Perfect,” he said. “You are safe from whatever comes your way. Turn it back off for now. You will know when it is time to use it.”  
They moved to the clock and were whisked off to a small American town in the state of Pennsylvania. As they moved among the residents, there was talk of the war coming their way, but they had no idea of the extent of what was coming.  
They made their way to the seminary, where much of the Union Army was establishing its position. Neville and Zaman watched, making observations. “The battle will start in earnest tomorrow morning,” said Zaman. We can watch from here. Get a good night of sleep. Once it starts, there will be no rest while the sun is in the sky. Towards the end of the day we will move to a new position.  
As the sun set, Neville found a place to sleep. Zaman continued looking around. The night passed quietly enough for what was going to happen. At seven o’clock in the morning Zaman woke Neville so they could position themselves near the seminary to observe.  
At approximately seven-thirty gunfire broke out. “Turn on your shield,” said Zaman. “This is it.”  
Within minutes a Hell unlike anything Neville was yet to imagine broke out. Cannons boomed. So many guns were firing that it was impossible to pick out individual shots. Men were screaming as bullets and shrapnel tore through their bodies.  
Neville was shaking inside his shield as he watched. On several occasions he heard bullets skip off his protective covering. It was like all of God’s love had abandoned the world and the devil was turning the minutes of the day into hours of pain and carnage. It was only with great effort that Neville managed to write observations down into his book.  
As the day finally started to wane, Zaman told Neville it was time for them to move to a new location. They walked for a considerable time before he told Neville to try to get some rest from their position near the top of a hill. They would observe from this hill during the second day of the battle.  
Once again, night passed. As the sun rose up, Zaman woke up Neville to prepare for day two of the battle. He found a place near the 20th Maine lead by Colonel Joshua Chamberlain. He had been ordered to hold the position at all cost.  
The battle raged on and on. In the latter part of the afternoon a direct assault begun on the hill. The situation became more and more dire as the ammunition ran low on the Union side. From there position, they could hear the leadership forming a desperate plan. As they watched, the soldier spread out across the top with their bayonets in place and almost no ammunition.  
On command from Chamberlain, the left side charged down the hill, with rest joining in so they were moving like a door closing to the right. This stunned the Confederate forces. The charge along with help from adjacent troops routed the Confederates, winning what would be the most important single event of the battle.  
With the day won, Zaman moved them back across the battlefield to a place called Cemetery Ridge for the final day of battle. Neville slept hard, exhausted from the stress, even though he had barely exerted an ounce of physical energy during the day other than the walk to the new position. He told Zaman he thought he had heard at least a hundred bullets hit his shield. Zaman said he had heard the same.  
The final day of the battle featured a failed attempt by the Confederates to break the Union line with a charge across a field and uphill to attack them. It started with a noontime cannon barrage that was mostly ineffective, but the smoke from the cannons obscured it. The charge exposed a mile-long line of men to fire in the open field from the Union line. The carnage was horrible.  
Even though some of the Confederates reached the Union lines, and cracked it in a couple spots, they were repelled and the losses ended their chance of winning the battle. They were forced to withdraw, badly beaten. Many reports would call this battle the turning point in the war.  
Before the returned to the office, Zaman lead Neville past one of the numerous field hospitals. All the way there the ground was saturated with the blood of the dead and wounded. In some areas, it was like a maze walking past dead horses and mules. Outside the hospital, dead soldiers were stacked like firewood. Although they did not enter the facility, the screams and moans of the wounded filled the air in a horrid symphony only Hell could appreciate. The far side of the hospital had an ever-growing pile of amputated arms and legs baking in the hot sun. The stench was unbearable.


	10. Do It All by Myself

“That is the most terrible thing I can imagine possible,” said Neville as the suddenly found themselves in the peaceful silence of the office. “I never want to see war again.”  
“That is a very mature thing to say, Neville. Many people throughout the universe discuss this. Many say that war needs to be ugly, like this. People need to see it to have a chance of evolving. It needs to be so ugly that once you see it, you will do anything to avoid it happening, again. Some say,” he continued, “that if society makes war to civilized, sanitary, that the desire to wage it, or the fear of it, disappears. If it is reduced to someone in a room pushing a button and countless others perish unseen by them, then the will to stop and negotiate a settlement never arrives.”  
“I see,” said Neville, starting to calm himself and to rationalize what he had just endured. “Does stuff like this occur other places?”  
“Alas, far too many, and not just on Earth, I’m afraid,” sighed Zaman. In this battle, about eight-thousand fathers, sons, brothers, uncles, etc. were killed. Thousands more were wounded or captured. You saw the results of being wounded for many of them at the hospital. And the camps where the prisoners went were horrible. Starvation, disease, brutal treatment. Many more died in them by the end of the war. But human history has many more battles, much worse than this one to its discredit.”  
“Battle and sieges like Leningrad, Stalingrad, Berlin, The Somme went on for a long time, two years or more in some cases, but the cost was immense. Hundreds of thousands of men died in each of those battles. The wounded numbers were staggering, sometimes over a million. And all of this is just on Earth.”  
“There are planets and systems where battles have killed multiple millions, and in a few cases, billions in just one day. Some of them have finally evolved beyond wars, others may yet, but some completely destroyed themselves, even exploding whole planets.”  
Neville’s eyes were wide open. “That’s horrible,” he said.  
“Yes, and tragic. Many of those cultures had a lot of potential, if they could have just learned how to talk, instead of fight. But let’s not dwell on this. There is a lot of beauty for us to see, as well. Finish up your report. I have a special trip for you to take next. Then it will be my rest period.”  
Neville sat and wrote his report while enjoying a nice black tea and a stack of peanut butter cookies with chocolate pieces mixed into them. Zaman busied himself organizing some of the paperwork in the drawers.  
After reviewing the report and finding it a worthy effort for his first time reporting on something as traumatic as a major battle, Zaman gave Neville a bit of a surprise. “I think you are ready to try a trip on your own. It will be something very simple, no drama. But you need to give it a try. Eventually, you will be doing all of your trips alone.”  
“Do…do you really thing I am ready for that?” said Neville, a bit nervous about the prospect, and still a little shaken by his Gettysburg trip.  
“I don’t know if anyone is ever completely ready for their first solo, but it has to be done sometime. I think you need to give it a shot. Like I said,” pointed out Zaman, “it will be an easy one. If you experience any trouble, just come back. That is always an option on any trip.”  
“Okay,” said Neville, nibbling on the last of his cookies. “I will do my best to make a good report.”  
“I know you will,” replied Zaman. “I have every confidence in you.”  
“Where am I going to visit?”  
“I found a fun one. It is the opening of the Great London Exhibition in 1862. Should be a lot of fun things to see and do. There should not be any challenging situation. It should be perfect for a first-time solo trip.”  
Neville smiled. “That does sound like a good time. I think I can handle that one. When do I go?  
“Excellent” said Zaman, smiling as he handed a piece of paper to Neville. “After you leave I start my rest period. I will be resting when you return. Write your report and leave it on the table. There will be a list of a few more trips for you to take, if you wish, while I rest. We can discuss them when my rest period is finished.”  
“Should I go, now?” asked Neville, looking at the blank sheet.  
“As soon as you are ready,” came the reply. The year is 1862. The day is May 1. The place is South Kensington. Let’s see you get ready, now.”  
Neville walked to the ledger. He turned its pages to May 1. Picking up the quill, he wrote South Kensington – 1862 on his sheet of paper.  
“Good, good,” said Zaman as he watched. “You are doing fine.”  
Neville folded the paper in half and walked to the clock. “I think I am all set,” he said with a nervous voice.  
“Go when you feel ready.”  
With a little shake in his hand, Neville slipped the paper in the slot. The clock came to life and he was gone an instant later. Zaman walked over to his bed, which had suddenly appeared, and laid down for his by now well needed rest.  
Neville found himself on a street with people hurrying about. Horse drawn carriages were carrying folks in fancy dress. Everyone seemed headed in the same direction. He felt certain that it must be toward the exhibition.  
When he arrived, it was truly a grand event. He took continuous notes as he walked through the exhibits. To a young wizard, much of it was strange, even in the modern day. Muggle Studies is an ongoing project of the magical world.  
One of the first things he saw was a thing called a refrigerator that turned water into ice. He also saw part of an analytical engine made by Charles Babbage. It was able to do mathematical calculations. There were machines for processing cotton and making rubber.  
He eventually found himself at a large, art exhibit. The pictures were beautiful in the soft light. As he walked, admiring them, he accidentally bumped into a girl of about his same age.  
“Excuse me,” he said, not thinking of anything except being polite.  
“It’s okay,” she replied with a smile. “Do you like art?”  
The girl was a pretty and slim with very black hair put up in a bun and dark eyes with a very straight nose that reminded him a bit a Pavarti Patil. She was wearing a pinkish dress and white gloves. Pretty girl such as her usually did not talk to him. He was a bit taken by her friendliness.  
“Uh, yes, I guess so. I like plants and gardens the most.”  
“They have a nice garden by the fountain,” she said, starting to walk that way. “Let’s go look at it.”  
“Okay, sure,” said Neville, enjoying the rare treat of attention from a pretty girl.  
“Are you here with your parents?” she asked as they walked.  
“No, I came to write a report on what I see here,” he answered, getting a little sidetracked from his job.  
“I am here with my parents. They are looking at science stuff. I like art better. That is why I was there.”  
They made it to the fountain and it surrounding garden. It was very different from the gardens at Hogwarts. Instead of magical plants, it was flowers and other benign, colorful plants. They enjoyed the scent of all the flowers, many of which had been brought out from greenhouses were they were forced to bloom early for the event.  
“Don’t you just love the smell of the roses and hyacinths?” she asked. “I love the way they smell.”  
“They are beautiful. I wish you could see the plants where I come from. I think you would like them, too. They are very interesting.”  
“Where do you come from, uh…what is your name? I don’t think you said it.”  
“Oh, I am, uh, Neville. Neville Longbottom. I live north of here. But I am going to school in Scotland.”  
“I’m Kendra Smith. We live in Wembley. Nice to meet you, Neville.”  
“Nice to meet you, Kendra.”  
Just then, the sound of a distant clock chimed two o’clock in a rich, powerful tone. “Oh my,” said Kendra, turning to go. “I have to go. I promised my parents I would meet them in front of the art museum at two o’clock.”  
She was gone in a flash of pink. Neville smiled, happy about meeting such a nice girl. Then he remembered his job. He got back to writing as he thought about her. He wondered if he had broken any rules, but he did not think so.  
They had done nothing except talk. Surely he could not have caused anything to change from just talking. Zaman, if he had been there, would have strongly disagreed. He could have prevented her from an important event in her life, one that could affect the timeline. Neville did not look at it so deeply.  
Neville finished the day writing in great detail about the many wonders of the exhibition. As it came close to the end of the day, he thought more about Kendra, and how he wished they could have had more time.  
Once he was back at the office, he constructed what he felt was an excellent account of his first solo trip. He then looked at the list of other trips he should take while enjoying his tea and cake.


	11. A Brave New Future

“I still cannot believe Neville just disappeared like this,” said Hermione with a pronounced sigh. “It is so not like him. He is too shy and quiet.”  
“You’re not still on about that,” said Ron. “The school, the Ministry, everyone are doing everything possible.”  
“I know, Ron,” she replied, sounding a bit annoyed by his response. “I still can’t help but worry. He’s our friend, and he’s missing.”  
“Ron’s right,” said Harry. “I know it is frustrating, but there is nothing we can do. They have searched everywhere. Even Dumbledore said at dinner last night that he is at a loss for ideas. It is like Neville never existed.”  
“I know,” said Hermione with a look indicating her frustration. “I feel helpless. I don’t like to feel helpless.”  
“We have been over it a million times,” said Harry. “He fainted during class. We all went outside. When we came back, he was gone with no traces. I hate to say it, but it is almost like he does not want to be found.”  
“That is it. Where would he go?” said Hermione. “You know his parents are gone. He doesn’t like living with his grandmother. He would never go there by choice. I can’t imagine him leaving.”  
Ron and Harry looked at her, trying to think of anything to say. They agreed with what she said, but had nothing to offer. This was a huge mystery with no clues for solving it.  
Neville took a nap, and then started on the trips on the list. He saw a tennis tournament at Wimbledon, and then he saw an older lady successfully go over Niagara Falls in a barrel. He wrote excellent reports on both trips, but he still had Kendra stuck in his mind.  
His next two trips took him to Mardi Gras in New Orleans and the opening of a movie called The Jazz Singer, which was the first ever talking movie. He wrote reports on both, but was still thinking of Kendra.  
Finally, he could no longer bear it. He had to see her again. He wrote South Kensington – 1862 on a piece of paper, folded it and slipped it into the clock. Once again, he found himself on a street with people hurrying about.  
“I recognize this,” he thought. “It is exactly as before. I just need to go that way. I will end up at the exhibition.”  
A short time later Neville was inside the event. He walked around, looking at many of the things he had seen before. A little boy dropped his candy and started to throw a tantrum when his mother would not let him pick it up. He remembered that from his first trip. It made him smile, adding to his confidence that he would soon find Kendra. Several things about some of the exhibits that he had missed the first time caught his eye. He made notes for a second report.  
He eventually found his way into the art exhibit. This is where he met her the first time. All he needed to do was wait for her to appear. He had every confidence that she would show up. Everything else was too identical for it not to happen.  
Then, boom, he bumped into her. His face lit up as he saw her. She just looked at him, obviously having no idea who he was.  
“Excuse me,” he said, looking at her. She was every bit as pretty as he remembered.  
“It’s okay,” she replied. “Do you like art?”  
“Yes,” he replied. “I like it almost as much as I like plants and gardens.”  
“I love gardens, too. I love flowers.”  
There are some pretty flowers in the garden near to fountain,” he said, remembering how much they had both enjoyed them the first time.  
“Let’s go look at them,” she said.  
“Okay,” he replied as they started off toward them. “I’m Neville. Neville Longbottom.”  
She smiled at his friendly behavior. “I’m Kendra Smith. Are you here with your parents?”  
“No, I am here writing a report about the exhibition.”  
“Oh, a school thing. I go to school near our home in Wembley. Where do you go to school?”  
“My school is way up north in Scotland, but I was born not too far from London.”  
Why do you go to school way up there?” she asked. He found the friendly curiosity good. He was not accustomed to interactions with girls. It felt even better than the first time they had met.  
Neville had to think about his answer. He could not just say he was a wizard. She would think he was bonkers or worse, making fun of her. He finally said, “My parents knew some of the people who run the school. They got me invited to go there. It is a famous school, at least to a lot of folks.”  
They arrived at the garden and started admiring the flowers. Everything was going great, then the clock struck two ‘clock and she had to go.  
“How can we meet, again?” he asked as she started to go.  
“I can come back here after meeting my parents. I don’t think I will be long. It is just to make sure everything is okay.”  
“I’ll wait for you here,” he said as she dashed off.  
This was similar, but different than the first time. He wondered how that all worked. He was certain he had not changed time. It should not be a problem to wait for her to return. There was plenty for him to report on in the meantime.  
Neville busied himself with writing about things in and around the garden. There were several small exhibits and lots of activity. Suddenly, he saw a familiar pink dress. It was Kendra. She really came back.  
“Hi, Neville,” she said with a big smile.  
“Hi, Kendra,” he said, returning the smile. “I am glad you came back.”  
“What should we do?” she asked. “I have until six. Then I have to meet my parents to go home.”  
“I don’t know. Let’s just explore. There is so much to see here.  
They walked through the exhibits, talking while looking at different things. One of the more fascinating things was the stereoscopic photography. Neville purchased a set of pictures of the exhibition, planning to give it to Kendra as a present later.  
Kendra said she was getting a little tired and wanted to rest for a few minutes. She purchased some hot nuts from a vendor and found a nice bench out of the flow of the crowd.  
After a while, Kendra told Neville she really liked him and wished they could spend more time together. He said he wished the same thing. Then she said something that was going to change their entire relationship.  
“Would you like to see a magic trick?” she asked.  
“Sure,” said Neville, expecting some type of muggle magic.  
“I never showed this to anyone, not even my parents. But I want you to see it.  
“Great,” replied Neville, getting anxious.  
Kendra took a nut from the bag she had purchased and placed it in her hand. “Now watch closely,” she said.  
Neville looked at the nut. All of a sudden it jumped out of her hand and into her mouth.  
“Whoa,” said Neville. “That was quick. I never saw your hand move.”  
“It didn’t,” she replied.  
“Then how did you toss it into your mouth?”  
“I told you. Magic”  
“Show me, again,” said Neville, his curiosity peaked. “I want to see you do it again.”  
Kendra held out her hand and put another nut in it. Neville leaned forward and stared directly at her hand. He was going to watch it like a hawk this time.”  
“Here,” she said, taking his hand and moving it to the one with the nut in it. “You don’t believe me. Hold my hand. Then you will see I don’t move it.”  
It was the first time they had actually touched. It was almost electric. Neville felt himself trembling inside as he held her hand.  
“Get ready, now. One, two, three,” she said as the nut leaped into her mouth.  
Neville looked at her in disbelief. He knew what this meant. But he did not think she understood the meaning. He had to tell her.  
“Amazing,” he said, wondering how he could break the news to her. “Can you do more things like this?”  
“A couple. Sometimes they don’t work. But I can usually do some,” she said with a shy smile, wondering if she was scaring him with her tricks. “Do you want to see more?”  
“Yes, but I think I need to tell you something.”  
“What?” she asked, worry in her voice.  
“You’re a witch.”  
Kendra recoiled. “WHAT!” she said starting to get up so she could run away from him. “That’s a mean thing to say.”  
“No! No!” said Neville. “Please. It is a good thing. I am a wizard.”  
She was ready to run, but that was enough to stop her for a moment. “Why are you being so mean, Neville?”  
“Wait,” he said, pulling his wand from inside the back of his pants. “I’ll show you.”  
Neville was still a fairly clumsy young wizard. However, he knew a few charms. He pointed his wand at a stick and said, “Wingardium Leviosa” with a swish and flick. The stick came up off the ground and he directed it to her and placed it in her hand.  
Kendra looked at him in shocked silence. “Lumos,” he said, causing his wand tip to light up with a bright light. He then said “Nox”, causing the light to go out.  
“Are you really a wizard?” she asked, a bit frightened.”  
“Yes. And you are a witch. Aren’t your parents magical people?”  
“No. My dad is a banker and my mom works at his bank.”  
“Oh. I have a friend whose parents are non-magical people, too. You should have gotten a letter inviting you to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry.”  
“I did,” she said. I thought it was a joke.”  
“Where is it?  
“I think it is still at home. It was pretty, so I didn’t throw it away. I was going to try to figure out which of my friends sent it to me.”  
“It’s not a joke,” said Neville, trying to sound very serious. “You need to answer it. Then people will come see your family. They will explain things. Then you can go there and learn real magic like me.”  
Neville had forgotten he was no longer a student. But it didn’t matter. He wanted Kendra to go to Hogwarts and he was going to follow her there. As long as he was inside this timeline, he was going to stay with her.  
“How do I answer the letter?”  
“I am not sure. Hermione said people came to her house to talk to her and her parents. Maybe someone will come see you.”  
They talked about magic for a few minutes until Kendra said, “I think it is getting close to time for me to meet my parents. How can I see you, again?”  
“Give me your address. I will come by when I can. I promise it will not be long.”  
Kendra wrote down her address in Neville’s notebook: Kendra Smith, 88 Ealing Road, Wembley.  
Just then, the clock chimed six times. “I have to go,” she said. “Please come see me as soon as you can.”  
Kendra disappeared into the crowd. Neville was left pondering what he should do. If he went back, he would have to start the entire process he had just been through anew. But where could he stay, if he didn’t go back?  
Then Neville had an idea. Maybe he could get a room at the Leaky Cauldron. If he could get a room, then he would be good to sort things out with seeing Kendra.  
He approached a carriage and asked about getting the Charing Cross Station. The driver asked if he had money. Neville said he did. A short while later he was in a room at the Leaky Cauldron.


	12. Neville Gone Rogue

Being back among magical people had a few advantages, even though they were from over one-hundred years in his past. Getting to Wembley was going to be a smaller problem than he had imagined.  
Two days passed while Neville sorted things out, but in the end, it was going to be fairly easy. There was a floo network fireplace at the Leaky Cauldron. There was also one in a pub in Wembley a short distance from Kendra’s home. All that was necessary for him to do was go to the Wembley pub and wait until she was home from school.  
After lunch on his third day at the Leaky Cauldron he felt ready to go to Wembley. He stepped into the fireplace holding a fistful of floo powder. “Pink Unicorn,” he said as he threw to powder downward. He was gone in a flash of green flame. A second later he appeared in the fireplace of the Pink Unicorn.  
Neville sat down at a table with a butter beer to wait until time to find her house. He inquired about the address. It was only a few blocks away, which was pleasing.  
Just before time to depart, he cleaned himself up as well as possible. There was the distinct chance he might meet her parents. He wanted to make a good impression. Then it was time to go.  
He walked down the street and over a couple blocks to Ealing Road. He turned right and walked until he saw a nice house with an 88 over the door. “This is it,” he told himself. “Be calm.”  
Neville tried his best to relax as he approached the door, but his nerves were eating at him from inside. He had no idea what was about to occur. He was hoping for the best.  
Just as he got to the door, he heard footsteps behind him. He turned to see Kendra running his way. “Neville,” she said, giving him a hug. He was a bit overwhelmed by it. No girl had ever acted that way toward him before. “I have the best news. Wait until you hear it.”  
Kendra opened the door and they went inside. “Hello, Miss Kendra,” said a woman in an apron who was cleaning the room.  
“Hello, Millie,” said Kendra. “Millie is our maid.”  
“Hello,” said Neville.  
“Hello, young master,” she replied.  
They went through the room into the parlor. Kendra closed the door behind them. She was obviously overflowing with the desire to tell her news to Neville.  
“I am going to Hogwarts,” she blurted out. “The people from the school came here yesterday and talked to me and my parents. My parents were scared at first, but now they are excited about it. We can be in school together.”  
“Wow! That is great,” exclaimed Neville.  
“My parents are excited to meet you, too. I told them about meeting you at the exhibition.”  
“They want to meet me?” said Neville with nervous concern in his voice.  
“They want to ask you stuff about the school and to meet you.”  
“Oh, I guess that is okay.”  
There was a knock on the door. “Do you want tea and biscuits, Miss Kendra,” said Millie.  
“Yes, please,” replied Kendra.  
The door opened and Millie entered with a platter containing two teacups, a teapot, and a plate with several delicious biscuits. She sat them down and poured the tea, first putting two cubes of sugar and some milk in Kendra’s cup.  
“Cream and sugar?” she asked Neville.  
“Yes, uh one sugar and some cream, please.  
Millie prepared Neville’s cup. “Is there anything else, Miss Kendra?”  
“No. Thank you, Millie,” said Kendra with a smile as Millie left the room, closing the door on her way out.  
Kendra and Neville continued chatting, sipping their tea and eating their biscuits until there was another knock on the door. “Kendra dear, can we come in?”  
“Yes, mom. Don’t be silly.”  
The door opened and in walked a lady who looked like an older version of Kendra in a nice, dark blue and white dress followed by a sober-looking man with brown hair and glasses, wearing a dark blue suit with a big, gold watch chain.  
“These are my parents,” said Kendra, looking at Neville. “This is Neville. He is the boy I told you about.”  
“Nice to meet you, Neville,” said Kendra’s mother.  
“Yes, Nice to meet you, young man,” said her father. “Kendra has told us a lot about you.”  
“I am happy to meet you,” said Neville, trying not to sound too scared. He had never met a girl’s parents before. He was not certain of how he should act.  
They chatted for several minutes about the exhibition and other small talk items. Then the conversation turned to the school and wizardry and witchcraft in general. Neville tried his best to explain life at the school and how much fun it was to be a magical person. They were amused by the story of how his family finally discovered he was magic when his great-uncle dropped him out a window when offered some lemon meringue.  
Neville and Kendra became close friends over the summer. Her parents took him with them on holiday to Brighton, and several other events. The people from Hogwarts did everything to prepare Kendra and her family for her departure to the school. The trip to Diagon Alley for her school supplies was the most fascinating trip of their lives.  
As the day for departure to Hogwarts neared, Neville realized he did not have anything to take with him. He was not even sure they would accept him. He needed to get clothes and supplies.  
He went downstairs from his room and entered Diagon Alley. He purchased all of the items necessary for a first year student, and some general clothing to add to the bit he had already accumulated. He had money. He opted for a nice, barred owl, instead of a toad like he had been given by his grandmother.  
The next morning came. He gathered his goods and made it to King’s Cross Station. He met the Smiths near the entrance to Platform 9¾. They all entered the platform along with their guides from the school. The porters packed away their property as Kendra said her goodbyes to her parents. She got on the train with Neville, excited, but with tears in her eyes. She tried to smile through her tears as she waved goodbye as the train left the station with two lights on behind.  
The train ride was full of new and wonderful excitement. Other students were performing magic. They ate new and wonderful treats. Upon arriving, they were met by school personnel who ushered all of the first years onto boats.  
Neville and Kendra sat together as she got her first look at the castle, all alight under the clear, starry night. “It’s beautiful,” she sighed, taking Neville’s hand. He was also entranced. Hogwarts had never seemed so wonderful.  
Once they arrived, they were gathered outside the Great Hall. “You are about to be sorted into your houses,” said a tall, stern-looking witch. “These houses will be your homes while at Hogwarts. Your good deeds earn you house points. Your bad deeds lose you house points. When we go in, wait for your name to be called. Then you will be sorted.”  
The others continued to be sorted one by one. Finally, it came down to just him and another boy. “Percival Dumbledore,” said the professor leading the sorting. He walked up and was placed in Gryffindor. The professor then looked at Neville, who started to step up.  
“Who are you, lad?” asked the professor. “I have no names left on the list.  
“I am Neville Longbottom, sir” he squeezed out, wondering if things were about to fall apart after all of this time.  
“I don’t see your name on this list. Did you get a letter? Are you sure you are supposed to be here?”  
“Yes, sir,” said Neville.  
The professor looked to the others at the head table. They were all looking to the headmaster. “Longbottom is a well-established name in the wizarding world. We must consult the Book of Admittance”, said the headmaster. “Maybe something is amiss.”  
Neville looked at Kendra, who was staring back at him. What was going on was on both of their minds. How could Neville not be welcomed here after all they had been through? He was obviously a magical person. What was the problem?  
Several people from the head table got up and left. They returned several minutes later with an ancient-looking book bound in black dragon hide. They presented it to the headmaster, who passed his hand over it. The book opened to a page. He looked at it with a curious expression.  
He touched the page, finding fresh ink on his finger. “It seems your name is here, but in fresh ink. That is most curious. How can you be here when this ink is so fresh?” puzzled the headmaster. “But the book never lies, and I sense no dark magic on it. It has always been correct for hundreds of years. Please step forward and be sorted into your house.”  
Neville stepped up and the hat was placed on his head. After a moment he was seated at the Gryffindor table next to Kendra.


	13. School Time

“I am beginning to feel stretched,” said Dumbledore to professors McGonagall and Snape. I feel like time is escaping me."  
“Why would you say that? You look fine, Albus,” said professor McGonagall. “Perhaps it is just the stress of starting another school year.”  
“Yes, I think you are fine, headmaster,” said professor Snape.  
“Perhaps you are right. Something is tugging at me, but maybe it is nothing more than start of term nerves. We will see what time has to say.”  
Once again, Hermione found herself in the greenhouse, looking around the spot where Neville had fainted. It was like a magnet kept pulling her to the spot. She stared, lost in timeless thought. “Where are you, Neville?” she wondered. “I feel you, but I cannot see you. I need a sign. Give me a hint.”  
Her effort was futile. It left her feeling faded and weak. All of her worry proved ineffective, never yielding anything. Her faith in solving the disappearance was starting to feel like a candle that was reaching its end, relying only on the residual, previously melted wax to keep it lit as it flickered toward extinction.  
When Harry and Ron found her, she was actually relieved. She needed to get away from her fruitless thoughts.  
“Blimey, Hermione,” said Ron, “You spend more time here than in the library. I didn’t think that was possible.”  
“I know,” she said in a dejected tone. “I hate this, but I have to admit it is time to give up the search.”  
“Let’s go,” said Harry. "Even the ghosts and portraits have decided to stop looking. If they cannot find anything, I think it is hopeless.”  
Neville and Kendra had a great first year. Neville excelled, as expected, in Herbology. He also did exceptionally well in his other classes since he had already taken close equivalents to them last year.  
Kendra did wonderful in her classes. Going from the life of a muggle, oblivious to the magical world, to life at Hogwarts was amazing. Her abilities blossomed and she showed promise of growing into a superb witch by the end of her years of school.  
At the end of her first year, Kendra returned home full of joy and happiness. Her parents were delighted to see how much she had grown, both physically and mentally. Neville returned to the Leaky Cauldron. Neville and Kendra spent the summer much as they had the school year, hanging out together and growing closer.  
Their second year passed much as their first. They studied hard and improved their skills. They spent a great deal of time together, but were also popular with the other students. Percival Dumbledore tried several times to get time with Kendra. He found her fascinating. She turned him down each time he proposed anything resembling a date. Finally, he decided it was impossible for him to get between her and Neville. He gave up trying.  
“What’s the matter, Albus?” asked professor McGonagall.  
“I feel a darkness coming. I cannot explain it, but it is like a curtain is being drawn. I feel time is closing in on the world. It is a most disturbing feeling.”  
“Oh, Albus, what do you mean?”  
“I can’t explain it,” he said. “It is a strange feeling, like when Voldemort was gaining power. But this has a stranger, more permanent feeling to it.”  
“What can we do?” said McGonagall. “This is very disturbing, indeed.”  
“I do not know. I fear all we can do is wait, and hope that it passes. It is out of our control.”  
Hermione had given up on looking for Neville. She immersed herself even deeper than usual in her classes as an attempt to keep her distracted. Harry focused on quidditch. Ron attended to his studies.  
Neville and Kendra shared their first kiss during the summer between years two and three. Kendra was a girl of good morals, and kept it to a kiss. Neville, being timid by nature, did not press it further. They found their kissing to becoming more ardent as their third year passed, but still, they kept things to firm hugs and long kisses. Many of the other students were secretly jealous of their relationship, considering them to be the hot item of their social set.  
Year Three worked its way into Year Four, and then into Year Five. Neville’s knowledge of magical plants was gaining him a lot of recognition. His professor began telling the headmaster that he should be considered for advanced training beyond that of the normal students. She felt he had the potential of becoming a professor in the future. It was suggested to him he start writing about plants with the objective of authoring a book.  
Kendra was receiving similar accolades for her skill in crafting potions. She was mastering potions well beyond the level of her peers. Her first attempts at creating new potions showed great promise. If she could perfect a few unique potions of her own, the future would be very bright, indeed.  
“What do you want to do after you finish school?” asked Kendra.  
“I think I will want to do something involving plants. Maybe a herbologist or something related,” he replied, trying to give it some thought.”  
“I like potions. Maybe I could have a store selling them. People always seem to need one for something or other.”  
“That would be nice. I think a store like that could be very successful in a place like Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade.”  
“You could grow plants and herbs for my potions. We could be in business together. People could by potions and herbs at the same place.”  
“Yes,” agreed Neville. “That would be good. What would we call the business?”  
“Potions for All Notions & The Superb Herb,” she said, indicating that she just might have already given this some thought.  
“Yeah, that’s good,” said Neville, taken a little aback by her quick answer.  
As the summer between years six and seven passed, their affection for each other passed into real love. While they both remained virtuous, they knew the day would come when it would be time to go to the final level of intimacy, surpassing the behavior they now engaged in on a regular basis. Their final year passed more quickly than seemed possible. Both of them got the highest marks on their respective N.E.W.Ts.  
Neville began training to be a professor of Herbology. Kendra began organizing her ideas on how to open a shop. Kendra’s father gave her advice on starting a business, even though he could not finance it. He helped her scout locations and set up promotional plans to get it kick started after it opened.  
On a sunny day in a park near the home of Kendra’s parents, Neville pulled together all his courage and asked Kendra if she wanted to get married. He offered her a ring with a set of diamonds he found in a shop in Diagon Alley. Kendra accepted, hugging and kissing him passionately.  
They decided to hold a small, muggle wedding for the benefit of Kendra’s family. Her family hosted a very fine reception at a local hall. A second reception was held at Hogwarts. It was attended by all their friends from the magical world. That night they finally consummated their relationship.  
By now, unbeknownst to Neville, the main timeline was irreparably damaged. Everything he had formerly known in life was gone. The tangent he created off from the main timeline was now the new main timeline. All in front of him was headed into a strange, new direction he could not imagine.  
A month later their shop in Hogsmeade celebrated a modest opening. It was stocked with potions and potion making materials financed from money he pulled from his magical pouch. He had arranged to sell herbs grown at Hogwarts until his own gardens were ready to supply the store. In return, he worked as a second herbology professor at the school.  
Just over a year later, their first child, Rhiannon Margaret, was born. She had the looks of her mother with straight black hair and a narrow nose. In no time, they began noticing indications of her magical powers. They were overjoyed to have a baby witch in their family.  
Their store blossomed into a successful business bolstered by both the quality of Kendra’s potions and her new, unique potions available only from her. The quality of Neville’s herbs made them extremely popular with customers. He had a hard time keeping up with the demand. Life was good.  
Two years after the birth of Rhiannon, Alice Elizabeth entered the world. A second daughter was a second blessing for them. A booming business and two wonderful children made for the happiest of worlds.  
Another two years of great business passed. The girls were growing up so fast Rhiannon was looking more and more like her mother with every passing day. Alice favored Neville’s mother, who Kendra had never seen, but she accepted his opinion on it.  
Their final child, Francis Joshua, was born a year later. They decided that he would be their final child. Kendra prepared a potion to prevent further conception that she would have to take every full moon. The Longbottom family was complete and perfect.  
The years passed, and Rhiannon received her Hogwarts letter. It was a day for great celebration. The first of their children was going to learn witchcraft.  
Alice and Francis also showed strong magical abilities. They were certain they would eventually receive letters as well. To their delight, both of them did receive letters. Their family had reached a highpoint as the watched all three of them leaving together on the Hogwarts Express.


	14. All Good Things

It seemed like yesterday, but oh so long ago, that Rhiannon had left for her first day at Hogwarts. Where does time go? Today was a monumental day in the family’s life, the opening of yet another chapter. Rhiannon was marrying a wizard she had dated for over two years. Thorodin was a tall, muscular blonde boy of Norse extraction. His family had a long history of sword and shield making, but had transitioned to brooms as the need for weaponry of that type waned. He was moving into a position in his father’s factory which made high performance brooms and quidditch equipment. Rhiannon was set to work at Gringott’s in the department handling communications between the goblin and wizarding communities. It was a diplomatic job always in need of delicate tweaking.  
All too soon, Alice and Francis also graduated from Hogwarts. Alice was skilled in potions, like her mother. She wanted to start out working in the family business.  
Francis had excelled at Ancient Runes. His intention was to make and sell them in store shared with his intended wife, Willow. She was skilled at Arithmancy. They felt the trades were complementary enough for a joint venture.  
Rhiannon gave birth to their first grandchild, Nouvella, the summer after Francis graduated. Then came another and another and another until they had a total of ten over the course of nine years, six girls and four boys. All of the grandchildren, like their parents, exhibited magical powers.  
Nouvella left for Hogwarts shortly after her eleventh birthday, starting yet another chapter in their family’s history as a new century was presenting itself. Business was good for all of them. The Longbottom family was becoming a well-respected name in the wizarding world.  
All too soon, the grandchildren, starting with Nouvella, began graduating from Hogwarts and moving into their adult lives. Life was good. Neville had long ago forgotten about his childhood, the recorder office, anything other than his wonderful life with Kendra and his family.  
The first great-grandchild, named Neville, marked the beginning of another life chapter. Alice was running the family store while her mother spent much of her time perfecting new potions, unfettered with day-to-day shopkeeping chores. Neville worked with his plants and taught classes in Herbology at Hogwarts. Over forty years had passed since Neville and Kendra had met at the exhibition. The sun of their lives had passed the meridian and they were set to move comfortably into their later years.  
Neville was tending to his plants in the Hogwarts greenhouse gardens. The sun was shining brightly, making many of the plants happy, while others, like his small patch of devil’s snare, which muggles call jimsonweed and moonwort, which muggles call night ferns, were sulking, hoping for a cloud or two to end their uncomfortable day. School was almost ready to start of another year. He wanted the plants, especially the juvenile mandrakes, to be ready for instructional purposes.  
Time like this was precious to Neville. There were no distractions. He could concentrate on getting everything right. He could collect the perfect leaves, flowers, seed, roots needed for Kendra’s potions and general sales. He had a good arrangement with school, splitting the proceeds from the plants. Both benefited greatly from the system.  
Neville was in the middle of arranging a protective enclosure around the venomous tentacula plants when he heard the door open at the opposite end of the greenhouse. He suspected it might be the groundskeeper or one of the other professors. No students were as yet at the school. As he turned to greet the visitor, he got a shock that nearly caused him to faint. He saw a ghost from his past, Zaman Bahar. He had a very serious, almost angry expression on his face.  
“Z-Z-Zaman,” gasped Neville. “What are you doing here?”  
“I should ask you the same.”  
I live here,” said Neville. “This is my home.”  
Oh, so it is. You took a trip, apparently your second or third, to the 1862 exhibition, and apparently you found something that made you decide to just stay there and change the course of all future history. Tra-la-la. Is that about it?” said Zaman in a cross tone, his face wrinkled into a very angry frown.  
“I didn’t mean to. I didn’t think it would matter that much. I didn’t think the two of us would have that much effect one things, and we are happy.”  
Zaman walked up to Neville and pulled back his sleeve to expose his watch. The light was flashing red. “Where is your watch?” Isn’t it flashing red, as well.”  
“I…uh…I haven’t seen it in years. I hid it because it was out of place. I guess I should have looked at it.”  
“You guess you should have looked at it,” huffed Zaman in an exasperated tone. “Do you even have a clue what you have done?”  
“Uh…no, I guess not. What is the matter? Am I in trouble?”  
“That is an understatement. You have destroyed the main timeline. Do you remember the main timeline?” he growled.  
“H-h-how did I do that?”  
“You broke rule number one. You created a whole new reality, and not a good one.”  
“I’m…uh…I’m sorry. I didn’t know. What do we do?”  
“Well, let me tell you about my day,” he started. “I woke up with a bright red light flashing on my watch and an emergency meeting symbol blinking. I head straight off to the library to find I am the reason for the meeting because of what you have done. They told me to reel you in or I will be emptying waste bins for the rest of my time. You have no idea how serious this is.”  
“How did it go so wrong?”  
“Do you have any idea who you married?” said Zaman incredulously.  
“I married Kendra.”  
Yes, you married Kendra Smith. Seems pretty innocent, doesn’t it?”  
“Uh, yes.”  
“Did you ever notice a student named Percival Dumbledore? I think he was in the same Gryffindor house as you.”  
“Yes, I remember Percy. He was always bothering Kendra. He wanted to be her boyfriend. But we stayed together. He had to give up.”  
“Well, there you have it. Kendra was supposed to marry Percival. They were supposed to have two sons and a daughter. One of them should be familiar to you…Albus Dumbledore. Because of you, Albus Dumbledore never gets born. Because of that, Voldemort is eventually going to rise to take over the whole of the wizarding world. Because of that, many of your friends are going to die fighting a losing war. That is what will happen because of what you have done.  
Neville collapsed back against a table full of silverweed. He was the cause of the future destruction of the peaceful wizarding world. His happiness was going to cause a catastrophe of unimaginable consequence. He felt like he had devil’s snare wrapped around his chest.  
“Wha-what do we do?” he gasped in a weak voice.  
“We go to the library and see what they want to do. The decision is not ours to make. The council will make a decision and we will have to live with it. And I warn you, you may not like it, but you and I are not going to have much control over the final decision. Get ready for the potential of some really bad news. I fear there is no easy way to sort this out without a fair amount of pain being involved.”  
“O-o-okay,” said Neville as he stood back up. “I guess I am ready.”  
Zaman walked over and took Neville’s arm. A flash later he was in the library. He was stunned to see he had returned to his twelve-year old self. They walked down the hall and into the room where Duroul and the others were waiting for them.


	15. An Ounce of Prevention...Missed

Chairman Duroul called the meeting of the Council of Recorders, Earth Group, to order. At the table sat fifteen people dress in similarly eccentric outfits to Zaman. The mixture of colors could prove dizzying to the mind of even the most jaded eyes. The group included eight men of various ages, from middle-age, to old, to really old, and seven women, one young, and four that looked similar in age to Professor McGonagall. Neville was placed in a chair against the wall where he could witness the proceedings, but not be a direct interference.  
“We are all aware of the reason for this meeting, so we may as well go ahead and begin,” said Duroul, seeming to not be interested in formalities. “This question is not what has happened. We all know what Zaman’s apprentice has done. It is not worth our time to rehash or analyze it. The question is what we should do to correct or adjust to it? Does anyone have a suggestion?”  
“There is always, of course,” began a very elderly man in a yellow suit with a bright, rainbowed tie, “the option of doing nothing and just allowing things to continue on the new tangent caused by the event that has happened. We can allow it to become the new main timeline.”  
The event he referred to was Neville and Neville’s effects within their system of existence. Neville winced at being referred to in such a cold way.  
“Thank you, Quijh,” replied Duroul. “That is an option. What do you then suggest we do with Neville Longbottom? How do you plan to facilitate his future?”  
“Well, that is the issue at the end of this, isn’t it?” said a woman in a white cape covering a bright red suit matching her wide-brimmed hat, which was accented with a white ostrich plume similar to Zaman’s quill. “We could just place him back in the timeline he created and let him live out his life in it.”  
“That does sound like the easy way out,” injected Zaman, “But we need to consider the timeline he has skewed the normal flow into, and its projections for the future, especially as it affects not only Earth, but the rest of the universe.”  
“And what, exactly, are they?” asked another woman in an electric lime green dress with coordinating blue fringe on the collar, sleeves and hemline. “You seem to know something, Zaman.”  
Zaman stood up and proceeded to launch into a comparison. “We should be all aware of the natural flowing timeline that we have been on up until this event occurred. Is there anyone here who has not viewed the projections on the line for the future?” he asked, looking at the others. They all nodded in agreement.  
“Okay. It looks like we are all aware, then. So, what then,” he hemmed, “will change beyond this event as the new grain of sand we are riding moves out from the narrow spot in the hourglass we call the present, for lack of a better term, in future universal time? Instead of going straight down the natural line of flow we have all seen, where are we now going to go?”  
“I take it you have something to say about that which will give us pause?” said Doroul. “Something that will complicate the decision to just let time take its…uh…new course?”  
Neville was sitting quietly, feeling quite uncomfortable with the discussion. It was very difficult to hear one’s self referred to as an object, an event, a problem, as it were. He felt like speaking up, but knew better.  
‘Yes, I do,” continued Zaman. “I find the new line quite troublesome. I think we have to consider it before rushing to a convenient decision…”  
“…well, then, let’s hear your concern, Zaman,” said Duroul, trying to get him to move to the point they should be considering.  
“As I was saying, we all know the current track. Here are the details of the new track. With the new track, Dumbledore will never have existed. That, all by itself, can and will have catastrophic results in the future timeline.”  
“Harry Potter will still be born, and his parents will still die at the hands of Lord Voldemort. The circumstance surrounding that will be different, but Lord Voldemort will still lose his powers and Harry will become a horcrux. He will still end up at Hogwarts.”  
“Other than the absence of Dumbledore, the difference will not be profound. Minerva McGonagall will be running a fine school. BUT, and I emphasize but,” said Zaman, waving a sweeping arm in the air, “this is where things start to really go askew. Harry Potter will die in the Chamber of Secrets from a bite by a basilisk because Dumbledore’s phoenix will not exist to bring him the Sword of Gryffindor, and then heal his wound from the basilisk bite. That means Ginny Weasley will also die, allowing Lord Voldemort to rise from the horcrux in Tom Riddle’s diary. A new war will brew years earlier than in the former timeline. Hermione Granger, who we all know will rise to become a very important future Minister of Magic, will die along with her future husband, Ronald Weasley, because Neville will not exist to kill Voldemort’s snake. Lord Voldemort will go on from there to conquer the Ministry of Magic and take over the magical world in the UK and begin his suppression of muggles still armed with five active horcruxes. As the timeline progresses, he will take over the entire magical world on Earth and bring the muggle population under his repressive control.”  
“This is very disturbing,” said a man with a brownish, brimmed hat covering a prodigious amount of curly, brown hair and an exceptionally long, multi-colored, striped scarf over a knee-length reddish-brown coat.  
“Now, we will be getting far out from this point, and the accuracy of the projection will become less exact, but it is almost a certainty that Lord Voldemort will develop a desire to go on from there to other worlds. He will force the muggles to create spacecraft that can move his influence off the Earth and eventually to more and more worlds within our network. Personally, I find this potential timeline unacceptable. We cannot let this tangent become the new main timeline. The whole of the peaceful universe we are dedicated to creating will eventually be in jeopardy.”  
Neville, even though he did not fully understand what was going on, had a horrified look on his face. None of this sounded good, and he knew he was at the root of it.  
“I agree,” said the woman in the lime green dress.  
Duroul looked around the room, seeing a lot of agreement on the faces of the others. “Can we then agree that this current timeline is unacceptable, and must be remedied?”  
Everyone nodded in the affirmative. Seeing their consensus approval, Duroul said.” What is our line of action to adjust things? Who has an idea?”  
“I recall that this all started, according to the report, with him meeting a girl at a trip to South Kensington – 1862 – May 1. We should return him to that coordinate and prevent the meeting. If we eliminate the meeting, we return the timeline to its original track,” said the elderly man in the yellow suit.  
“That could work,” said Duroul. “I think that is the best…”  
“…Wait,” interrupted Zaman. “That will still leave us with Neville. What do we do with him?”  
“We put him back at the school,” said the elderly man.  
“How does he account for the time between his disappearance and reappearance? He will still have the knowledge of us, our place, and the entrance into my office. If they get that out of him, my office will be filled with curious people. That’s unacceptable.”  
The room was now abuzz with people speculating. “That is definitely unacceptable. Do you have another idea?” asked Duroul over the chatter in the room.  
“We make him a janitor here,” said another.  
Neville was more nervous than ever. What would they do with him? Were they going to kill him? Was he going to be a prisoner forever? They were never going let him return to his apprentice status. He was never going to be allowed another opportunity to mess up the universe’s timeline.  
“I am going to propose that we take him back to an hour or two before the event where he discovers the entrance. According to his story, he fainted, and they left him alone. When he came to, he snagged his robe on the lever board and opened the entrance used by the librarians to come collect records. He needs to tell someone not to leave him alone if he has a problem during class. They need to help him, so when he comes to, he never opens that door.”  
“What about events that have occurred since his disappearance?” asked the man with the colorful scarf. “They will be altered.”  
“Yes, they will,” replied Zaman. “I have looked at events that have taken place during this interval. Nothing relevant to the natural flow has occurred. Other than eliminating the search for a missing student, the normal flow at the school will only see a temporary, nominal change. That is as long as we do it very soon. That will make it a very clean procedure.”  
“Are you certain of this,” asked Duroul, looking directly at Zaman. “We don’t want to swap one mess for another.”  
“Yes. This will work. It is our best option. The natural flow will restore at 99.95 plus percent. It should make it back to 100 percent once we pass the overlap with the point where I send him back. That should prove quite acceptable. If we were to simply kill him, as someone thought was a good option, the timeline would suffer much greater damage, and never fully recover. This way Neville will never know this event occurred. We can go on with our work without distraction or the burden of having to care for him in perpetuity. The timeline would be restored to 100 percent in a relatively short period.”  
“Okay,” said Duroul, looking around the room. “Is this our plan? What say all of you? Speak now. This is your chance.”  
Everyone sat quietly, nodding their consent. It was a rare moment in recorder history that an entire table was in total agreement on an issue.  
“Can you make it so, Zaman?”  
“Yes,” he said, looking at Neville, who was still frightened, but feeling a little better.  
“Then go ahead. But keep a close record of things. We will still need to make a report to the Supreme Council. You know how much of a bunch of sticklers they can be about things of even lesser importance. We need to have ALL of the facts…I mean ALL of the facts on hand. We will never hear the end of it if we mess up. We’ll all end up janitors or paper shufflers like the group from the Taurian Supercluster did after the Merope Three Incident. That caused a collective wince from the entire group.  
Duroul adjourned the meeting. Everyone walked out in their respective ways. Zaman took Neville by the arm and pressed a button next to the red light on his watch. In a blink they were back in the office. Tea and scones were waiting for them.


	16. The Pound of Cure

“We need to go over this very thoroughly. There will only be one chance to fix things. We have to make certain it is done correctly.”  
“Yes, sir,” said Neville, knowing this was going to be the most important thing he was yet to do in his life.  
Once you get back to the school, you will be on your own” said Zaman, trying to impress the seriousness of the situation on Neville. “Who are you going to get to assist you? It has to be someone you can trust implicitly and who can do what it takes to make certain you wake up and do not reopen that doorway.”  
“I think Hermione Granger is the best person to help me. She is very smart and nice. I am sure she will be able to handle the responsibility.”  
“What will you say to her? You can’t give away what is going to happen.”  
“I will tell her I feel a little ill this morning. I will ask her to please take care of me if anything happens to me in class. The others will just laugh at me.”  
Okay. After you have spoken to her, where will you go? You cannot allow two Nevilles to turn up in the same room. You need to be very careful to not raise suspicion by being in two places at once, either.”  
“She likes to go to the library before class. I will watch for her to leave the hall after breakfast. I will meet her on the way to the library. After I talk to her, I will find a quiet place in the back of the library and wait for it to happen.”  
“That sounds good, Neville. I am sorry this is going to end this way, but take solace in the fact that once the event passes, you will no longer have any recollection of the events of the past days, or in your case, years. I know it will be a great loss to you, but it is for the best of the universe.”  
Neville relinquished his watch and coin purse. They were not going with him. Once gone, he was expected to be Neville Longbottom, the nervous, timid, young Gryffindor.  
Zaman carefully inscribed the place and time on a slip of paper. He folded it and handed it to Neville. Neville walked to the clock. His hand was shaking as he slid it into the slot. “Be well, Neville,” said Zaman. “Great things are waiting for you in your proper timeline.”  
The clock came to life with numbers moving as the clockwork whirred and clicked. Then he was gone. Zaman felt a shake in the fabric of time, like when someone shakes a towel or blanket before folding it. He looked at his watch. The red light was now bright green. Time had started readjusting itself. He pulled the paper from the clock, causing it to whirr and clatter some more. Neville was not coming back. He tore the paper into bits and tossed it on the plate with the scone crumbs.  
Neville found himself outside the entrance of the castle. He careful pushed the door open. Students were moving about, mostly on their way to breakfast. He saw several of his Gryffindor housemates go by. Ron and Harry passed, flanked by Fred, George and Dean. Hermione passed by, talking with Ginny and Penelope Clearwater. Then he saw himself, walking with Seamus. It was a very strange feeling.  
He waited a few moments, and then he walked to position himself to intercept Hermione when she came out of the hall. Time passed and many students exited. Finally, Hermione came out with Penelope. The two of them parted company as Hermione started off toward the library. He hustled until he was close enough to ‘accidentally’ walk up on her.  
“Go-good morning, Hermione,” said Neville as he neared her.  
Hermione turned and look back at him. “Good morning, Neville. Are you going to the library?”  
“Yes,” he replied, walking up beside her. “I want to get a couple Herbology books. I am interested in reading about some water plants I heard about over the summer.”  
“Oh, I am just looking for some light reading, and to return these books I borrowed over the summer.”  
“Can I ask you a favor?” said Neville in a very nervous voice.  
“Sure, Neville. What is it?” she asked as the approached the doors to the library.  
“I…uh…I’m not feeling well this morning. I am worried about class. If anything weird happens, can you make sure I am okay? I don’t want the others picking on me or something.”  
“Of course, Neville. But you’ll be fine. It is probably just first day jitters. I had them so bad last year. I worried myself into a panic. I thought I was going to explode. It’s actually kind of funny to think back about it. But nothing is going to happen. Just relax. Take some deep breaths if you feel ill. That always helps me.”  
“Okay, thanks. I think I’ll be okay. I just worry too much some of the time, too.”  
As the entered the library, they parted ways. Neville headed off to the Herbology section. Hermione went in the direction of Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. As soon as she was out of sight and sound, he headed deep into the back recesses to await the inevitable event.  
He found a chair in a remote corner and sat down to read in a herbology book he had grabbed on the way. He hoped it would distract him. Maybe it would ease his mind. A lot was cooking inside it. The weight of his impending loss was threatening to overwhelm him.  
“Ah, Merweed,” he thought. “This is the stuff that is supposed to be able to turn merpeople human and humans into merpeople. It is only found in the center of the Sargasso Sea. Interesting. And, hmmmmmm, it must be picked during a full moon, but only when the moonlight is obscured by clouds. You must feed it to fish, then eat the fish. Amazing! Who figured this out?”  
The distraction worked for the duration of the article. Then another wave of grief flared in his head. “Kendra! Forty plus years of marriage…a perfect marriage. No one could have been happier. All of it was going to be gone in a few minutes. Tears were starting to flow freely down his cheeks. And my wonderful kids, Rhiannon, Alice and Frank. They’ll all be gone.”  
Neville was now on his knees, sobbing. All my grandchildren, and my new great grandchild, little Neville. He is only one month old. I can’t bear it. I have to stop this.”  
Neville leapt to his feet. He had to stop Hermione from saving him in the greenhouse. He had to save his family. He started to run out of the library, knocking over several stacks of books in the process.  
In the greenhouse, Neville had just fainted during the lesson on repotting mandrakes. Professor Sprout told the class to just leave him. She led them through the repotting, and then asked them to follow her outside.  
“We can’t just leave him, professor,” said Hermione, as the others moved passed her and stepped over Neville. “That’s not fair.”  
“He’ll be okay. Now come along. We’ll see to him when we return.”  
“I want to stay with him, professor. I am worried about him.”  
“Do what you want, Granger. But you will still be responsible for the lesson in the garden,” replied Sprout, annoyed that one of her best students was disobeying her on day one.  
Hermione was now on her knees by his side, feeling his forehead with her hand. She had made a promise that she never expected to have need to honor. Now, presented with the unlikely situation, she was determined to stick to her word.  
Neville made it to the main corridor, wiping the tears that were blurring his vision. He headed toward the exit leading to the gardens and greenhouse. He knew there was still time, because he was still here. But he also knew time was of the essence. He ran faster than he ever had ran in his life, passing Colin Creevey, who tried to stop him to talk.  
“Sorry, Colin,” he said, barely breaking stride. “I am in a bit of a hurry.”  
Hermione stayed beside Neville, rubbing his hand, wishing she knew what she could do to help. At least she would be there when he came around. It was all she could do, but she was committed to her mission.  
Neville made it to the exit, still running, even though his chest was now pounding, desperate for air. “I’m going to make it. I’ve got to make it,” he kept telling himself. “I’m going to save my family.”  
Neville started to move, coming back to life. His eyes blinked and he made a few guttural sounds.  
“Are you okay, Neville? It’s me, Hermione. You’re okay. I am here with you like I promised.”  
“Wha-what happened?” he spoke in a faint whisper.  
“You fainted. But you are okay,” said Hermione, trying to reassure him. “I’m here, like I promised.”  
Neville burst into Greenhouse One. He was almost there. Just a few more seconds. “Go, go, go,” he said, encouraging himself.  
Neville started to rise up. Hermione grasped him to help. “Wait,” she said, reaching toward his hand. “Your sleeve is snagged on something.”  
Neville, burst through Greenhouse Two. It was just a few more feet to the entrance to Greenhouse Three.  
Hermione unsnagged his sleeve and helped him wobble into a standing position. “Don’t want to tear you robe on the first day,” she said with a warm smile.  
Neville grabbed to handle to open the door. He had made it. “Yes,” he thought as he lifted the latch. “I’m coming, Kendra.”  
“There,” said Hermione, giving the loose board a couple stomps to push it down into place. “Don’t want anyone to trip on that. They need to nail it down before someone gets hurt or worse.”  
In his office, Professor Dumbledore suddenly jerked and stood up out of his chair, interrupting a conversation on the school’s holiday programs. “Did you feel that, Cornelius?” he asked the Minister.  
“No. What do you mean?” said Fudge, looking around with the concern of a person who just realized they may have missed something important.  
“It was a most curious sensation, like the whole universe hiccupped or perhaps sneezed. Maybe I just need a cup of tea, or a brandy. Let me get both of us one.”  
“Oh, Okay. Thank you. That would be pleasant.”  
“Where is everyone?” asked Neville, still fairly foggy.  
“They are out at the gardens. They should be back in a bit.”  
“Thanks, for staying with me,” he said. “Why did you stay? Why didn’t you go with the rest of the class?”  
“I promised you I would stay with you like you asked this morning.”  
“I asked you that?”  
“Yes. On the way to the library.”  
“Uhhhh, okay. I guess I’m still a little boggled,” he said, rubbing his head and looking at his earmuffs. “I don’t remember any of that. But thanks. That was very nice. How long was I...uh…unconscious?”  
“Not too long. A few minutes, I guess.”  
“Wow. It feels weird, like it was fifty years or something,” he said, still shaking off the effects.  
“No, just a few minutes,” chuckled Hermione. “I don’t think I would have hung around fifty years.”  
Just then, the class started to return to the room. “Let’s look at our mandrakes and see if they are happy,” said Professor Sprout. “Longbottom, are you okay?”  
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.  
“Okay, then you and Granger take your places. Time is valuable. We haven't got forever. No time for wasting it dilly dallying.”


	17. Epilogue

The years moved forward from there exactly as chronicled in the records. Neville had seamlessly moved back into the main timeline. No re-editing was necessary, much to the satisfaction of the Recorders and the author of the subsequent Harry Potter stories. The main timeline was at 99.989 percent, headed toward 100…well within acceptable parameters.  
Neville and Luna’s brief romance never panned out. He would eventually marry Hannah Abbott a few years after the Battle of Hogwarts, in which he played a major role. After considerable studying and hard work, he was to become the Professor of Herbology at Hogwarts following the well-earned retirement of Professor Sprout.  
Hannah would replace Tom, becoming the landlady at the Leaky Cauldron, where she lived with Neville for several years. She eventually trained to become a healer and moved up to work in the infirmary at Hogwarts, which was not only a career upgrade, but kept her closer to Neville. They had three children: Kendra Rhiannon (a name with strange attraction for Neville), Alice Marie (after their mothers) and Francis Albert (after their fathers). All of them would attend Hogwarts during the same years as the children of Harry and Ginny, and Ron and Hermione. That is as far as we should go with the projected timeline.  
So, while the world was not perfect, it was at least correct.

Zaman Bahar


End file.
